


Under My Bed (Hiatus)

by pixieheart



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anxiety, Blood, Demon!Dean, Destiel - Freeform, Love, M/M, Monster World, PTSD, SPN - Freeform, Supernatural - Freeform, Therapy, Under My Bed, Violence, Young!Dean, angsty, deanmon, demon, nerd!cas, prince!Dean, prince!Sam, spn au, young!Cas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-02-21 19:20:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 72,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2479562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pixieheart/pseuds/pixieheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every night, eight year old Castiel lay awake fearing the monsters under his bed. He tried to convince himself that there was no such thing- until he finds himself with a little black-eyed boy named Dean at the end of his bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! Thanks for taking a peek at Under My Bed. This begins with a young human Castiel and a young demon Dean Winchester. Together they will grow and form an unlikely friendship. Please enjoy the prologue to this story and let me know if I should continue writing. Later chapters will be longer. - fuchsia-light

     Eight year old Castiel Novak was often the target of many pranks, especially those of his brother's. In most cases, this resulted in the boy fleeing to his bedroom in tears. As he grew older, the pranks grew meaner, until the poor boy could hardly turn the corner without expecting some kind of scary mask to be waiting for him. This made Castiel an incredibly anxious boy. Recently, Gabriel's favorite laugh was to talk about the "monsters" under Castiel's bed. Being paranoid already, Castiel had a terrible time falling asleep when he was convinced by his older brothers that there were scary things with sharp teeth and red eyes hiding under his mattress and waiting to spring out and take a bite out of him.

     For the next three nights, Castiel had insisted on sleeping with all of his bedroom lights on- certain that it would stop the monsters from getting to him. On the fourth night, after Castiel had pulled on his pajamas and brushed his teeth, he stepped into his dim bedroom and stared hesitantly at his bed across the room. If he ran, he could jump on top of the bed and yank the covers over himself before the monsters reached out and grabbed his ankles. This had become a bit of a routine for him, but it scared him every night, all the same.

    Once he was safely under his blankets with his teddy bear stuffed beneath his armpit, Castiel eyed his bedside lamp. It was difficult to sleep with the lights on.

    "The monsters aren't real." he mumbled to himself, determined for once in his young life to be brave and take a chance. "They only said that to make fun of you. There's no such thing as monsters." With a shaky hand, he reached out and pulled the lightswitch. The room was instantly doused in darkness, and Castiel felt chills run down his spine. "There's no such thing as monsters." he whispered again, screwing his eyes shut and repeating the phrase several times. "There's no such thing as monsters. There's no such thing as monsters. There's no such thing as-"

     **Thump.**

    Blue eyes shot open and Castiel bolted upright in the bed, gripping the blankets harder than he had ever gripped anything in his life. The sound had been close- so close that he could have dared say it came from _underneath his bed_. The young boy felt his hands go clammy and cold.

    "W-who's there?" he stuttered, calling out into the immediate darkness.

     Silence.

      **Thump.**

     Castiel squealed and tightened his grip on the wad of blankets he had yanked up to his chin.

      "H-hello?" Castiel struggled to see through the darkness. His eyes were still adjusting to the lack of light, but from the very edge of his bed, peeking over the foot of the bed, Castiel could have _sworn_  he saw a pair of gleaming black eyes staring back at him.

     "Who's there?!" he demanded again, using every inch of bravery in his blood to sound unfrightened. "I've got a pair of scissors on my nightstand and I'll hurt you bad!" Another shuffle towards the end of the bed made the hair on the back of his neck stand straight, despite his threat.

     "That's no fun. You're supposed to act scared." A young and devious voice spoke from the darkness. Castiel let out a surprised cry and threw his teddy bear towards the monster, hoping it would somehow protect him from danger. "Oof! Hey!" The monster shouted in surprise, a childish sound.

     "G-go away!" Castiel shouted. "You're not welcome here!"

     "Of course I'm not. That's the point, dumbass. Demons go wherever they want."

     Castiel choked. _Demons?_

     "G-Gabe, if that's you-"

     "Who's Gabe? I'm Dean Winchester." The confident little demon threw himself suddenly onto the foot of the bed, earning a piercing scream from the lungs of Castiel. The boy looked to be the same age as Castiel, had it not been for his blatant idiosyncrasies. His eyes were black like little pieces of coal, and in the darkness it appeared as if there were no eyes in his sockets at all. Protruding from the top of the boy's head were two very large horns that curved upwards like a ram's, and they looked almost too big for the boy's proportion. A slithery spade-shaped tail landed on Castiel.

    Castiel continued to scream until his lungs had run out of air and instead he choked, his blue eyes stretched wide with horror.

     "Get away!" he coughed, grabbing his pillow from behind his back and thrusting it towards the demon boy. "Get away! Get away! Get away!"

     "Jeez, Cas! Chill!" Dean shouted, throwing his hands up to block the fluffy attack. Castiel froze and let the pillow drop between them.

     "H-how did you know my name?" he asked, more frightened than demanding at this point.

     "I've been watching you, stupid." The demon answered, turning his lips upward into a smile. Tiny pointed teeth gleamed through the blackness of the bedroom. Castiel bit his lip.

     "W-why? So you can e-eat me?" he whispered, gripping the blanket that he had pulled up to his chin again.

     "Eat you?!" Dean erupted into laughter, a cackling, devilish sort of laugh. "Why the hell would I _eat_ you?!"

     For the first time, Castiel began to relax. The demon in front of him, as scary of a sight as he was, did not seem to be dangerous. Yet. He was watching Castiel with those beady black orbs and his lips were still stretched into a Cheshire-Cat sort of smile.

     "If you're not going to eat me, then why are you here?" he murmured, lowering the blankets to his lap. He was very well aware of the demon's tail flicking against his knee.

     Dean crossed his legs, mirroring Castiel's position and staring intently at him. He rested his chin on his hand, which Castiel noticed had long, pointed fingernails.

     "I've been living under your bed." he said.

_I knew it,_ thought Castiel with a stab of pride in his chest. Gabriel would never believe him, but he was right. There _was_ a monster living under his bed, and its name was Dean Winchester.

     "Why?"

     "You ask a lot of questions." Dean snickered. "Look, I'll spell it out for you. I'm a demon. When I grow up, I'm going to haunt people's houses, possess humans, and steal their souls. But 'til then, I'm too little. My boss says I can't come home 'til I learn how to be a real demon. So first I gotta learn the small stuff, like scaring kids from under their beds." He nodded in conclusion, but Castiel was staring at him with squinted eyes.

     "You're pretty little to be a scary demon." he finally commented.

     "Hey! I just had you screaming your lungs out a minute ago!" Dean retorted. "But you're right. I've still got a lot to learn. Hey, you don't mind turning the light on, do you?" Castiel tilted his head.

     "I-I thought monsters were afraid of the light." he said slowly, reaching over towards his bedside lamp.

     "I'm a demon, not a vampire. It's just as hard for me to see as it is for you." The lamp flicked on and shed light on the two of them. Dean looked less frightening and more _exotic_ when Castiel could see him clearly. His horns and his tail matched the color of his onyx eyes. His nails were long and curled like a cat's claws and his teeth were jagged and white, like a shark's. Otherwise, he almost looked like a normal boy. He had a rather strong-looking jaw and numerous freckles dotting his cheeks. His hair was a dirty shade of blonde that was short except for the spiky tufts in the front.

     "You don't look so scary now." Castiel admitted.

     "I'm not trying to look scary. I already scared you enough tonight, I think." Dean's brow was furrowed, as if he was focusing hard on Castiel's physique. "Your eyes are really bright." He reached a hand warily towards the human, touching the side of his face.

     "D-don't do that." Castiel said, pulling away from his touch. His skin tingled where Dean's cold little finger had touched. "I guess I get why you've been hiding under my bed, but why are you _living_ under there?" He cocked his head. "I can't imagine you're very comfortable."

     "Stop asking me stupid questions. You're giving me a headache." The demon rolled his eyes. "Didn't you hear what I said? My boss said I can't go home yet! Where else am I going to sleep?" He blinked slowly, and the sight of those black eyes still gave Castiel chills when he reopened them.

     "You could stay at a hotel." he suggested.

     "Demons can't stay at hotels, dumbass." Dean remarked. "We'd scare the maids to death." The sound of a creaking floorboard in the hallway caught the young boy's attention and he reached out to slap a hand across Dean's mouth. The demon wiggled in surprise, making a muffled squeaking sound from behind his sweaty palm.

     "Castiel? Are you still awake in there?" A man's voice called. "You better not be up reading those comic books again. You have school in the morning!"

     "I'm going to bed now!" Castiel called back a little too eagerly. "Sorry Michael! Goodnight!"

     "Goodnight kiddo." The footsteps faded off again and the distant sound of a door closing told him that they were safe.

"Phew, that was close." The boy sighed. 

     "Who was that?" Dean asked, swatting Castiel's hand away.

     "My brother, Michael." Castiel answered. "He's nice but I don't think he'd like you very much. He's very protective."

     "Aw, I wouldn't hurt you." the demon grinned, revealing layers of sharp teeth again. "I'd just make you scream a little." Castiel pursed his lips, unsure to consider his words a threat or not.

     "Do you have any brothers or sisters?" he asked tentatively. Dean's black eyes narrowed and any color in his face faded away. The demon turned and got up from the bed, his change in demeanor physically apparent. Even his tail seemed to droop defeatedly behind him.

     "I think it's time you go to sleep, Cas." Dean murmured, crouching down beside his bed on his hands and knees. Castiel peeked over the side of the bed, clueless as to what Dean was doing.

     "Hey, wait! What's wrong?" he asked, watching the demon lay on his belly and scoot himself beneath the frame of the bed. "Dean!" he called desperately. When the tip of his tail disappeared, Castiel hung himself over the edge of the bed, staring into the dark abyss beneath his mattress.

Dean was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A HUGE thank you to Nai-xn for the fanart! *blushes* I've never gotten fanart before.  
> Here's a link to her deviantart for all of you to check her out!
> 
>  
> 
> [Nai-xn's Deviantart](http://nai-xn.deviantart.com/)


	2. A Friendly Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The strange little boy Castiel found under his bed has vanished, leaving him wondering if it was all part of his imagination... and Dean doesn't like how Castiel's classmates are treating him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I've become super hooked to writing this fanfiction. Something about a little AU demon Dean buddying up with a little innocent Cas just gets me and I've had tons of motivation to write. I've got big things planned. Please continue to give me feedback! All of your kudos and comments make me a happy camper. Without further adeu, here is the second installment of Under My Bed.

     Castiel had a hard time falling asleep the night he met Dean Winchester.

     He also had a hard time falling asleep for three nights after that, when there was no sight of black eyes beneath his bed. Several times, the boy gathered his courage and stuck his head under the bedframe. Each time was the same: there was nothing but a stack of Iron Man comic books, a matchless sock, and a couple of candy wrappers smushed up in the corner. Each time he checked, Castiel grew more and more confident that Dean would not return to haunt the underside of his bed anymore.

     He wasn't sure if he was relieved or sad.

     Castiel had even gone so far as to believe that Dean wasn't actually real. His appearance could have easily been a nightmare, persuaded by Gabriel's constant teasing. After all, the idea of a demon beneath his bed was far-fetched and unbelievable. There were no signs that Dean had been in his room at all.

     The eight year old told himself on the fourth night that Dean was nothing more than a figment of his imagination, and that he wasn't going to check for the little black-eyed boy under his bed anymore.

     He turned off the overhead light and walked confidently over to his bed, climbing beneath the covers and situating himself. For a moment, he listened for any sounds of rustling candy wrappers or comic book pages- but it was silent. Castiel reached over and pulled the string of his bedside lamp, cloaking the room in darkness.

     After suspensefully waiting several minutes for Dean to appear, Castiel found himself disappointed that the demon had not returned. _Maybe he found someone else's bed to live under,_ he thought, closing his eyes and shoving his face into the side of his pillow. He could not help feeling curious as to why (if it had really happened) Dean had indulged in their night-time conversation when he was going to _vanish_ and not be heard from again. The more he thought about Dean, the less scary he was and the more mysterious he became.

     With this thought in his mind, Castiel drifted to sleep. He was not woken until the ringing of his alarm clock went off the next morning. The boy grumbled and hit the snooze button, crawling out of bed with his crooked pajama shirt hanging off his shoulder and a head of hair that stuck out in several directions. Like every morning, he went through his morning routine: get dressed, brush teeth, eat breakfast, and rush to catch the bus. As he shuffled down the hallway to find breakfast, he was completely unaware of a pair of devious amber eyes watching him from the hall closet.

     When the eight year old neared the closet, twelve year old Gabriel Novak threw himself out the door, lunging at his little brother and making a simultaneous spooky noise with his mouth. Castiel gave a terrified shout, spinning around and slamming into the wall. The force of his forehead hitting the plaster gave him an immediate headache.

     "Got you!" shouted Gabriel, running past him into the kitchen. Castiel turned around and gave his brother an angry glare as he disappeared into the other room. His heart was pounding a mile a minute from the adrenaline rush he had just been delivered.

     Castiel followed him, halfheartedly rubbing his forehead where it had collided with the wall. The smell of eggs and bacon came wafting from the kitchen at the end of the hall.

     "Michael, Gabe scared me again." he mumbled upon entering the room. His eldest brother was standing at the stove with one hand on a frying pan and one with a spatula. At the table sat Gabriel (with a very _innocent_ look on his face) and Anna, his ten year old sister with fiery red hair.

     "Gabriel, did you scare your brother again?" Michael asked in a scolding tone, not bothering to turn and look at him.

     " _No_. He's making it up." Gabriel answered with a snicker, sticking his tongue out at Castiel.

     "Oh yeah?! Then why do I have this bump on my head?!" The eight year old demanded, pointing at the bruise forming above his brow.

     "Because you're clumsy and dumb!" Gabriel laughed, and Anna followed his example, giggling madly.

     "Gabriel! Watch your mouth!" Michael barked, carrying the pan of eggs and bacon to the table and dishing it out onto plates for his younger siblings. "Cas, get something cold from the freezer for your head and eat your breakfast. You _don't_ want to miss the bus again."

     Castiel huffed, storming over to the freezer and digging around for a bag of frozen peas.

     _Only 'cause you don't want to drive me again,_ he thought miserably. The school bus was his least favorite part of the day and Michael knew it.

     "Now listen up." The eldest Novak said loudly, drawing their attention as he returned his empty frying pan to the stovetop. "I'm picking up a few shifts at work this week so you guys have to get yourselves ready for school, got it?" He swooped around to the fridge and started digging around inside. "I don't want to hear about any of you being _late_ , alright?"

     "Yes, Michael." The three of them hummed in synchronization, although none of them looked rather pleased. Michael was always working late now. Besides taking care of his younger siblings, the twenty-two year old spent most of his time working a long job so he could afford to keep a solid roof over their heads. He was a good man and the closest thing the Novak children had to a father-figure.

     "Good. Now which one of you drank the entire pint of orange juice?" Michael's muffling faded off in Castiel's mind as he dug his fork into his eggs, breaking it into several bits and watching the yolk leak out across his bacon.

     "Hey Cassie." Gabriel taunted, leaning over his plate and consequently getting ketchup on the front of his school shirt. "Did you meet any _monsters_ last night?" The twelve year old snorted at his own teasing before shoving another piece of toast in his mouth. The young boy refused to look at his older brother, and he did not answer his taunting question.

     Castiel hastily ate his breakfast with one hand while holding the bag of peas to his head with the other. When eight thirty-four came around, he grabbed his backpack and scampered out the door and down the street to the bus stop. Anna was already there, talking quietly with Charlie, the little girl that lived next door.

     Catching his breath after the run, Castiel glanced nervously around the other kids at the bus stop. There was an older boy named Raphael who was in the fifth grade. He was only a year younger than Gabriel and even more menacing. Next to him was another fifth grader named Gadreel who had a strong-looking jaw and intimidating eyes. The two of them were much larger than Castiel, and they liked to take advantage of that fact.

     "Hey, midget." Raphael grabbed the bag off of his shoulders and shoved his feeble body towards Gadreel. "What do you have for lunch today?"

     Castiel frowned, watching the older boy search through his bookbag for his packed lunch.

     "I didn't bring one today. I forgot." he mumbled. Raphael dumped the back pack on the ground in front of them, silencing Anna and Charlie's whispers.

     "You _forgot._ " he repeated, raising his brow apprehensively. "Is that so?" When Castiel nodded, Raphael looked at Gadreel and chortled, "Well then, I guess you can _forget_ about this homework." Before he could protest, the older boy had stomped on his homework page, smooshing the paper into the dirt and tearing it with his shoe. At that moment, the bus came roaring over the hill. Gadreel released Castiel's arm and went to stand in line to board the bus, while Castiel bent down and quickly tried to gather his assorted items off the ground.

     The eight year old sat in the seat directly behind the bus driver (also called the "loser" seat by the older kids) not because he wanted to, but because it was the safest seat from the bullies. Even Anna sat bravely towards the back of the bus, where all the fourth and fifth graders claimed their seats. His homework, mutilated beyond repair, was shoved hastily into his backpack before he brought his knees up against the seat and settled down to stare out the window sadly.

     As the bus drove away, a pair of dark eyes blinked from the shadows of a tree.

    

 

     "How are you feeling today, Castiel?" asked the man from the other side of his magnificent desk. The boy sat in a very comfortable chair, though he was hardly tall enough to see over the tall furniture.

     "I'm fine today." he responded routinely, focusing his blue eyes on the stuffed elephant sitting on the corner of the desk. It's trunk was too long and hung limply like a dead snake from the front of its face.

     "Why don't you tell me how this week has gone?" the man prompted, lacing his fingers together on top of the desk.

     "It's gone fine." he answered, his eyes still focused on the elephant.

     "Has anything exciting happened?"

     "No."

     "Has anything bad happened?"

     "..." Castiel didn't answer this time. He focused carefully on the elephant and nothing else. The man cleared his throat and smiled.

     "Have you made any friends?" he asked. Castiel finally lifted his head, although his gaze remained fixed on the stuffed animal overlooking his desk. Every week the counselor asked him the same questions: How are you feeling today? How has this week gone? Has anything good happened? Anything bad? Have you made any friends?

     Castiel wanted to scream at the man that _nothing_ ever changed and that the silly appointments in the stuffy office with the raggedy elephant did _nothing_ to help him. He wanted to scream and throw that _stupid_ elephant across the room because it belonged in the arms of a child, not sitting on the corner of some old man's desk. He wanted to scream that _nobody_ wanted to be his friend. No one would ever talk to Castiel unless it was to make fun of him or steal his things.

     No one ever tried to be friends with him.

     No one except Dean Winchester.

     A smile came across Castiel's lips at the thought of the demon boy. Maybe his terrifying advances hadn't exactly been to make _friends_ with Castiel, but it had been more kind than anyone else had been to him in months. The counselor must have noticed Castiel's change in emotion because he leaned forward, a curious look on his face.

     "Castiel? Did you make any friends?" he asked again. Before he could consider the words in his head, Castiel quickly blurted out a response.

     "His name is Dean Winchester." Castiel smiled, feeling as if a heavy weight had been lifted from his chest. The man looked satisfied, and he scribbled something on his notepad that he usually kept with him.

     "When did you meet Dean?" the councilor questioned.

     "A few days ago." Suddenly the stuffed elephant seemed less interesting, as the boy was instead thinking about Dean and his strange black eyes. "Five. Five days ago."

     "How did you and Dean become friends?" The man ventured to ask. Castiel sunk his teeth into his lower lip, wondering what to tell the man. _He's not actually my friend but he's a boy with black eyes and big horns and a long skinny tail and he used to live under my bed but I think I offended him and now he's gone._

"Dean is a little different. Like me." Castiel finally answered. "He wasn't mean to me like everyone else."

     "Do you think everyone else is mean to you?"

     "Yes. They are."

     "Why do you think that?"

     "They call me names and break my stuff."

     The sound of pen scribbling on paper was magnified in the silence of the office.

     "Is Dean a student here?"

     "No." Castiel returned his gaze to the raggedy elephant. "No, he isn't."

     "How old is he?"

     "I'm not sure."

     "Why do you think he's different from your classmates?"

     "He didn't try to steal my lunch."

     "Castiel, have any of your classmates tried to steal your lunch?"

     "Yes."

     "Who?"

     "I can't tell. I'd be a tattle-tail and I'd get in trouble." Castiel found himself gripping the arms of the chair. The man scribbled something else onto his notepad and then fixed the young boy with a very satisfied smile.

     "I think we've had a lot of progress today, don't you?" When Castiel only shrugged in response, the councilor reached into the drawer of his desk and retrieved two bright red lollipops. Usually Castiel only got one lolly after their appointments.

   "Two?" he asked, taking both in his hands and looking at them in awe.

     "Why don't you give the other one to Dean?" the man suggested, standing up and walking over to open the door to his office. Castiel curled his fingers around the lollipops and stuck them both in his pockets.

     _Yes, that's what I'll do. If Dean ever comes back, I'll give the other one to him. Maybe then he'll be my friend._

 

That night, Castiel was no longer frightened by the idea of a monster under his bed. Instead, he paced the floor anxiously wishing that there _was_ a monster under his bed.

     "I hope you like candy." Castiel mumbled under his breath, sitting on the edge of his mattress. The young boy pulled the stashed lollipop from his pocket and set it right underneath the edge of his bedframe, just barely hidden out of view. He left the lolly there and reached over to turn off the light.

     For several minutes he waited for the sound of a crackling candy wrapper, but the bedroom was silent. Castiel sighed heavily and closed his eyes. There was no use in tempting Dean with candy when the demon was likely long gone by now.

    Keeping an ear open for any suspicious noises, Castiel curled onto his side and stuffed his teddy bear against his chest. As the night went on, his eyelids became heavier and the urge to sleep overwhelmed him.

     After sleeping rather restlessly through the moonlight hours, Castiel was especially exhausted when he woke up the next morning. Sunlight beamed in through the blinds and managed to aim directly at his eyelids. The boy rolled over to slam his hand down sloppily on the snooze button, only to realize that his alarm clock had not been going off at all.

     "Huh...?" Castiel squinted through the sunlight, staring at the little black box with flashing blue numbers.

     _Flashing blue numbers._

His eyes slowly widened until he threw his legs over the side of the bed.

     "I'm late!" he shouted, grabbing his clock from the bedstand and giving it a shake. The flashing numbers was a sign that the power had gone off in the middle of the night and reset the electronics- including his alarm. "Oh no... Michael's gonna kill me."

     The boy scrambled around his bedroom to get ready, pulling on mismatched socks and a shirt that he had worn a few days ago. He stumbled into the bathroom and ran the hairbrush through his hair, shoved a toothbrush into his mouth, and began to scrub. The manual clock on the bathroom wall read eight forty-nine. The bus had come and gone fifteen minutes ago, and Castiel hadn't been on it.

     Of course neither of his siblings had been courteous enough to wake him. As much as Castiel wanted to cry and climb back under the covers, he forced himself to pack his backpack and find his shoes. One of them had been sitting near his closet, and he balanced awkwardly on one foot as he tried to slip it on.

     "Come on, come on, where are you?" he mumbled, checking frantically for his other shoe. "If Gabriel hid you again, I swear-" Castiel cut himself short when he laid in front of his mattress and peered under the bed. His shoe lay just an arm's reach away, but that hadn't been what caught his attention.

     Beneath the bed, in the exact place that he had left it, was the empty wrapper of a cherry lollipop.

 

 

     Castiel rode to school on his bike, thankful that Pontiac Elementary wasn't but a mile or two from their house. His feet pedaled just as fast as his head was spinning.

     _Dean came back._ He knew that he had, because there was absolutely no other way that the lollipop could be missing when the wrapper was still lying there. _But why didn't he say anything?_ Castiel frowned, wondering if the demon boy was still upset about the question he had asked him the night they met.

     " _Do you have any brothers or sisters?"_

The young boy huffed, both from confusion and exhaustion, as he parked his bicycle in the grass and ran inside. _Just in time,_ he thought, catching his breath against the brick wall before walking inside. The bell would ring in a few minutes, and he had just enough time to make it down the hall to his classroom.

     The school day passed rather slowly for Castiel, as his mind was more occupied with a certain demon instead of the spelling words on the board. In the corner of his math paper, he doodled a little figure of a boy with black eyes and horns.

     _I wish he would have talked to me._ His urge to make friends with Dean Winchester was increasing by the day.

     "Castiel? Do you have the answer to number four?" His teacher's voice jerked him out of his thoughts and he felt his face flush with embarrassment. He had been concentrating so hard on his drawing of Dean that he had forgotten to do his math worksheet.

     "N-no." he murmured. Embarrassment came over him like a crashing wave. He _always_ had the right answers to the classwork. "Not yet."

     "Perhaps if you spent your time working on your problems instead of drawing pictures, you would understand the concepts better." the teacher scolded lightly. Biting his lip, the boy quickly covered his drawing with his hand and began scribbling his answers down. He attempted to ignore the quiet giggles of his classmates, but he had never felt more embarrassed in his life.

     The remainder of class, he focused diligently on his work, although the thought of Dean's black eyes continued to haunt the back of his mind. When lunchtime came around, Castiel grabbed his packed lunch and hurried to the cafeteria with the rest of his class. As usual, he took his seat at the end of the table, separated from the majority of his classmates. The cafeteria was crowded and louder than he would have liked it to be. _At least Raphael and Gadreel couldn't steal my packed lunch this morning,_ he thought happily, pulling out his sloppy peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

     "Hey, _midget._ "

     Just as the thought had crossed his mind, Castiel dropped his sandwich on the table and slowly lifted his head to the ominous shadows looming over him. Raphael stood with his bulky arms crossed, glaring down at him with an unpleasant smirk.

     "Why weren't you at the bus stop this morning, buddy?" Gadreel taunted him, sliding into the bench uncomfortably close to Castiel. "We _missed_ you."

     Before Castiel could mutter an answer, Raphael reached forward and snatched the sandwich off the table, taking a monsterous bite out of it.

     "Mmm, peanut butter and jelly! My favorite." he muffled through a mouthful of sticky food. "You got any twinkies today?" Again, before Castiel could respond, Gadreel was digging into his paper bag and retrieving his individually wrapped twinkie.

     "Thanks _buddy."_

     The two older boys laughed loudly and returned to their own table, leaving Castiel with nothing but a small plastic baggie of carrot sticks.

 

 

     Castiel rode his bike home from school and was thankful for the solitude and fresh air that the opportunity had given him. Gabriel had piano lessons after school and Anna had gone to Charlie's house for a play date, so the house was his own and he wouldn't have to worry about being bothered until dinnertime when Michael brought them home.

     Castiel liked having the house to himself. It was quiet (just how he liked it) and there was no older brother jumping out of closets to scare him. The boy grabbed an apple off the counter and sunk his teeth into it, his stomach growling from the lack of a lunch. When he had devoured the apple, he got into the fridge and poured himself a large glass of milk. (Michael always told him to drink a glass of milk when he was really hungry.) Wiping the white mustache from his upper lip, Castiel decided to take the quiet opportunity to do his homework. Gabriel and Anna were usually so loud in the afternoons that concentrating was difficult, even when he closed his door. He wondered if the two of them ever had time to do their own homework. After kicking off his shoes, he lugged his bookbag up the stairs and nudged open his bedroom door.

     "Hiya, Cas."

     Castiel dropped the backpack loudly to the floor when he realized what (or rather, who) was sitting on his bed. Dean's black eyes watched him, unblinking.

     "Dean!" He finally exclaimed, running towards the demon boy and throwing his arms around him excitedly. The young demon gasped and threw his hands out, struggling to free himself from Castiel's embrace.

     "Let go!" he snapped, although there was a surprisingly cheerful smile on his face. "Get off me!"

     Castiel finally pulled away, but his excitement did not falter.

     "Where were you? It's been days! I thought you left for good!"

     "What gives? You're not supposed to scream in _delight_ when you see me. I'm scary. Fear me." Dean said sarcastically. "And I didn't go anywhere. Didn't you see that candy wrapper?"

     "Y-yeah, but...  why didn't you say anything?"

     "I didn't know I was required to announce my presence. What the hell's gotten into you? You must have _really_ missed me..." Dean trailed off, raising his eyebrow slowly when he realized that Castiel was still staring at him admiringly.

     "I did. I did miss you." The boy responded, sitting on the edge of the bed and letting his legs dangle off the side.

     "Huh. Well that's weird." Dean snorted. "I've never had someone miss me before." He flicked his tail. "Anyway, you got any more of that candy?"

     Castiel resisted the urge to hug his horned friend and reached over to dig in the drawer of his bedside table. After shoving aside papers and small plastic toys, he pulled out a bag of gummy bears that he had stashed there a few weeks ago.

     "Here. They should still be good." he offered the bag to Dean, who plucked a single bear from the bag and squished it between his forefinger and thumb.

     "It's... gooey." he said curtly. "What's it taste like?"

     "The red ones are cherry, like that lolly was." Castiel explained, taking a gummy himself and popping it into his mouth. "The yellow ones taste like lemon, the green ones taste like lime, and the orange ones taste like... orange."

     Dean furrowed his brow and hesitantly ate the gummy candy. The red bear got stuck between the points of his teeth, and Castiel watched a tiny pink tongue dart across and try to flick it off. He didn't seem to like the texture very much.

     "So how come you were hiding from me?" the boy pressed on.

     "Nevermind that. Why are you letting those jerks walk all over you?" Dean demanded.

     Castiel tilted his head and felt a knot form in his stomach.

     "How did you know about that?"

     "I saw them rip up your homework and steal your lunch. You didn't even fight them."

     "You were there?" He blinked, trying to remember if he had seen any signs of the demon that morning. He was certain that he hadn't. "Michael says that violence is never the answer." Castiel continued.

     "Does Michael know that those assholes are taking your lunch every day?" Dean's question made him pause. It was true, Michael had no idea about Raphael and Gadreel, or anyone else that took advantage of Castiel. He had been too afraid to tell his brother because Michael already worried about them so much. Castiel didn't want to be pulled out of school just because he was getting picked on.

     "I didn't think so." Dean finished. "You know, they're gonna keep doing it until you stand up for yourself."

     "I can't!" Castiel blurted out. "I'm too scared. If they got mad, they could beat me up."

     "So beat them up back!" Dean barked. "You're my friend, Cas. I don't want you to keep getting treated like this."

     The boy's jaw dropped and he stared at Dean with wide eyes and a quivering lip.

     "You called me your friend." Castiel whispered. "Do you mean that, Dean? Do you really want to be my friend?" If Dean had pupils, they would have been rolling.

     "No. I mean, I dunno. I guess. Whatever. I'm living under your bed, so I've got to like you a little, right? Anyway, no host of mine is going to have his lunch stolen by some stupid kids."

     The boy tried not to look too disappointed.

     "What should I do?" he mumbled.

     "You just gotta show those bullies who's the boss!" Dean shouted, determination flickering in his dark eyes.

     "Yeah?" His voice sounded weak.

     "Hell yeah!"

     Castiel sighed and played with his fingers nervously, clearly not as thrilled as Dean was. He knew very well that when the time came, he would never have the courage to stand up to Raphael and Gadreel. They were much larger than him and Castiel liked his nose unbroken and his teeth where they were.

     "I'll tell you what." Dean narrowed his eyes, leaning closer to the boy. "I'll help you."

     Castiel gasped and lifted his gaze.

     "You will?"

     "Sure I will... for a small fee." the demon snickered, holding his hand out expectantly. "I'll help you scare those asswipes out of their pudgy little heads _if_ you bring me more human food."

     "Oh, thank you! Thank you!" The boy shouted, jumping off the bed. He reached out to his demon friend, grabbing his cold hands and pulling him to his feet as well. Castiel bounced up and down several times, but Dean remained with his feet planted to the carpet, eyebrows raised in confusion.

     "Is this some kind of... celebration dance?" he asked. Castiel's jumps slowed.

     "Well, yeah. It's what people do when they're really happy." He explained, wondering what Dean was like when he was happy. The boy pulled his hands away. "Dean? Can I ask you something?"

     "You just did." Dean responded sarcastically, chuckling and sitting on the bed again. "Yeah, go ahead." The eight year old took a deep breath and his expression softened.

     "Are you gonna disappear again?"

     Dean lowered his head; the glistening of his teeth disappearing behind the straight line of his lips. His tail twitched several times before responding.

     "No, I won't. Don't worry about that, Cas. I ain't going anywhere yet." The demon brought his knees up to his chin, resting his feet on the very edge of the bed. There were no shoes on his feet, and his toenails were hooked and sharp just like his fingernails. "I just got sour, that's all. I don't like people bringing up-" He cut off, and his tail stopped moving. "Nevermind. Forget about it."

     Dean didn't need to say it, but Castiel knew that he was referring to the question about whether or not he had siblings. For whatever reason, it had offended him and upset him to the point where he hid for a week. Castiel wouldn't make the same mistake again.

     "Okay... do you wanna do something?" He asked, hoping to change the subject and distract Dean from his negative thoughts. "I've got some video games... board games... movies..." Tapping his chin, Castiel wondered what monsters liked to do in their spare time. "Gabe and Anna and Michael won't be home 'til suppertime."

     It was an unspoken agreement that it would be better for Dean not to be around when his family was there. Michael probably wouldn't react well to a demon living underneath his youngest brother's bed (but he had to imagine the look of complete terror on Gabriel's face when he realized that monsters _were_ real, and that he had just made friends with one).

     "You got any more comic books?" Dean asked, leaning over to dig underneath the bed and retrieve an Iron Man comic. "I've already read these. Twice."

     Castiel laughed and nodded, excitedly running over to his bookcase to fetch a large stack of comics from his collection.

     "If you like Iron Man, you're gonna _love_ Spider-Man."


	3. Lets Talk About Cas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean decides how to handle the bullies who keep picking on his new friend, unaware of the emotional consequences it may have on Cas. A little eavesdropping makes him realize exactly how fragile the blue-eyed boy is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! A huge THANK YOU to those of you have read, commented, bookmarked, or even spread the word about this fanfiction! I've had someone ask if Castiel and Dean will remain children for the length of this story, and the answer is no, they will be growing up together. Their friendship is established as children but just wait until you see what I've got planned. As always, I love your feedback and feel free to ask any questions! - fuchsia light
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS: panic attacks, anxiety, bullying, flashbacks of death

     When Michael Novak returned home that afternoon, he watched Gabriel and Anna take off to the living room and immediately hurried upstairs to check on Castiel. Logically he knew that Castiel was fine, but worry always got the best of him. He wished that he didn't have to leave his youngest brother alone after school, but there was no way to avoid it- he didn't get off work until six, Gabriel didn't finish piano lessons until six-thirty, and sometimes there was traffic on the highway. He usually didn't get home until well after seven.

     Michael had tried to convince Castiel to become involved in some sort of after-school activity as well, but he was never interested. He also refused to go to the Bradbury's house with Anna, so Michael gave the eight year old a key to the house and told him to make sure the door was locked at all times. It worried the him that his brother was alone so often, but Castiel never seemed to mind.

     "Hey kiddo." Michael knocked on the closed door. "Can I come in?"

     "Just a second."

     Michael listened to the rustling of papers and the shuffling of footsteps before the door swung open. His little brother looked unusually cheerful.

     "Hi Michael!" The boy threw his arms around his brother's waist, hugging to him tightly.

     "Hi buddy." He smiled, patting Castiel on the head and peering behind him into the bedroom. There were dozens of comic books strewn messily across the floor. "What're you doing in there?" he asked curiously. The boy pulled away, and there was a tiny flash of panic across his face.

     "Nothing. Just reading." he answered quickly. "Is it suppertime yet?"

     Michael accepted Castiel's attempt to change the subject.

     "I'll get right on it. Have fun, kiddo. I'll call you when it's ready."

   The eldest Novak turned to start heading down the hallway, but before he could make it to the staircase, Castiel had already shut the door. Michael frowned and paused at the top of the stairs, staring at the door for a moment. It wasn't unusual for Castiel to want his privacy, but the boy was acting rather suspicious _._ The man shook his head and continued down the stairs. There was nothing _suspicious_ about an eight year old reading comic books in his room. Besides, it was Castiel. If something was wrong, he wouldn't have seemed so cheerful.

 

 

     "These super heroes are really uncreative with their names." Dean pointed out, picking up a handful of popcorn. "A boy that gets spider powers? Spider-Man. A man with an iron suit? Iron Man. The dude in the bat costume? Batman. Let me guess, the giant green guy is... _Green-Man?_ "

     Castiel shook his head, stifling a laugh.

     "No, that's the Hulk." he corrected, stealing a piece of popcorn before Dean could shovel another handful into his mouth. After supper, he had asked Michael if he could bring a snack up to his room to eat while he read his comics. Little did the man know that he was really bringing it for Dean, who was anxious to try more tasty _human_ food. "Do they have comic books where you're from?" he asked. Dean shook his head rapidly and spoke through his stuffed cheeks:

     "Naw, we just have boring old spellbooks. There's nothing make-believe."

     Castiel couldn't imagine a world of spellbooks being boring, although he had a hard time imagining a world without fictional books either.

     "Is magic real there?"

     Dean nodded, swallowing the wad of popcorn in his mouth.

     "Sure is. Way more fun than you boring old humans." The demon twisted his lips into a smirk. "Everyone uses magic. One day, even _I_ will be able to use magic."

     "Wow, really?" Castiel cooed. "What kind of magic?"

     "Whatever magic I want." Dean took another handful of popcorn and poured it into his mouth, crunching loudly on the kernels. "I could turn those bullies into dirty old rats and throw them into a cage of feral cats."

     Castiel's eyes widened at the thought, but the demon just laughed.

     "I'm just kidding. That's why kids like me can't handle magic yet. We'd be too irresponsible with it." Dean closed the comic he had been looking at and laid on his back, crossing one leg over his knee and resting his head on his arms. He looked completely at ease, and his tail rested comfortably across his chest. "So how are we gonna handle those jerkwads tomorrow?"

     Castiel shivered.

     "I thought you said _you_ were gonna handle them." he murmured.

     "Did I? Well, I think you'd have more fun if you helped." The demon closed his eyes. "I'll think of something. You should go to bed. You look like you're about to fall asleep sitting up."

     Until he said something, Castiel hadn't realized how tired he felt. It had been a long, stressful day and he and Dean had been reading comics on the floor for hours. Sleep was pulling at his eyelids but the desire to play with Dean was even stronger.

     "I'm not tired yet." he lied. "Let's keep reading."

     Dean stared at Castiel expectantly and shook his head, pushing himself up off the floor and wiping the salt and butter from the popcorn on his shirt.

     "Well _I'm_ tired." he said. The snake-like tail curled around his leg. "We should _both_ go to bed."

     Castiel couldn't argue with that. He sighed and stood up, shuffling over to the bed and climbing under the blankets. Dean stood motionless at the foot of his bed, watching with dark eyes.

     "Will you come back tomorrow?" The boy asked quietly, pulling the blankets up to his neck and reaching over to pull down the lightswitch.

     "Of course I will. I've got to scare those bullies, remember?" Dean smirked and his teeth shimmered white in the darkness. Castiel was strangely at ease with his words. "Goodnight, Cas."

      "Wait!" Castiel flicked the switch on again, and Dean blinked. "Dean, do you really sleep under my bed?"

     The demon crouched down so only his head was visible from where Castiel lay in his bed. His claw-like fingers rested over the edge of the bed frame.

     "Yeah."

     "Oh." Castiel smiled. "Are there any other monsters down there?"

     "No, just me." Dean assured him, clicking his nails against the wood of the bedframe. " _Goodnight,_ Cas."

     The boy was about to inquire more about Dean's living situation, but the demon sunk down out of sight and a quiet shuffling under the bed told him that he was settling down for the night. Castiel pulled the light switch once more and doused himself in darkness. As he lay with his eyes closed, the sound of quiet breathing accompanying his own helped him drift off.

 

 

     "Cas, wake up!" A sudden voice awoke him, and Castiel bolted into a sitting position. Stradling his lap was the demon boy from beneath his bed. Dean looked anxious, and his hands were hidden behind his back. The boy rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands. The room was still very dark, although he could see the hints of dawn from between his blinds.

     "What is it?" he asked, unphased by the fact that there was a child-size monster sitting on him. He felt like he was still half asleep.

     "I know how to get revenge on those bullies." Dean's smile stretched wide, and the two boys were so close to each other that Castiel could count the number of fangs in his mouth. His response caught Castiel's attention and he straightened up, reaching over to flick on the light. The clock on his nightstand read five thirty-two in neon blue letters.

     "Dean, it's so _early._ " he slurred, giving the demon a light shove.

     "Do you want my help or not?" Dean snapped, getting off of the boy and standing at his bedside. "Listen to me, this is genius." He held up an individually wrapped package in the palm of his hand. "Here."

     "What's that?" he mumbled.

     "A twinkie, you idiot. Can't you read?" Dean tossed the pastry at the boy, smacking him in the chest with it. "I got it from the kitchen."

     "How is a twinkie going to scare off Raphael and Gadreel?" he asked warily. "They _like_ twinkies. They're just going to take my lunch like every other day, you know."

     "That's the plan." Dean grinned.

     "...I don't get it."

     "That's 'cause you don't have all the pieces yet." From behind his back, Dean revealed a little white bottle. "Do you know what this is?"

     Castiel squinted and examined the bottle.

     "Vanilla... digestive?"

     "It makes you have to use the bathroom really bad. We'll slip a bunch of this into the twinkie. Those guys will be stuck on the toilet for hours." The demon laughed loudly. "It'll teach them to steal your lunch."

     The boy picked up the twinkie and thought about it for a moment. It did seem rather cruel to trick them into eating something that would make them sick, but Dean had a point. They wouldn't steal his lunches anymore. If he was lucky, they would never be able to look at a twinkie again.

     "I don't know, Dean... that sounds really bad. What if they beat me up afterward?" he asked.

     "They won't."

     "How do you know?"

      "Because I'll hurt them if they do." Dean said seriously. Somehow Castiel didn't doubt his statement. He briefly remembered how frightened he had first been at the sight of Dean and his row of sharp teeth and his long black claws. There was no doubt in his mind that the demon was capable of hurting someone badly. "Will you bring me breakfast now?"

     Castiel glanced sideways at the clock that now read five thirty-eight. It was so early that not even Michael would be awake yet, and he was usually the one to make breakfast. The boy started to climb out of bed, pulling on a pair of socks and opening his door.

     "Alright, but you stay here." he told him, pointing at the demon as if he were an obedient dog. Dean wiggled on the bed and crossed his legs, nodding in understandment. Castiel turned and hurried downstairs to the kitchen. After digging around in the pantry for several minutes, he returned to his bedroom carrying a box of strawberry Pop-Tarts, a bowl of oatmeal, two blueberry toaster waffles, and a slice of apple pie from dinner the night before.

     "Here." he said, dropping the box of toaster pastries as he entered the room. Dean's eyes widened and he immediately dug in, taking bites out of his different options. His favorite seemed to be the pie, which he gobbled down with his hand instead of the given fork.

     "Human food is great." he said, licking his lips. "I've never tasted anything so good."

     "How do we put the nasty stuff in the twinkie?" Castiel questioned, holding up the tiny medicine bottle and the packaged pastry. "Won't they taste it?"

     "Nah, not if we crush it up and put it in the middle. It'll taste the same. I'll just take a big bite out of the twinkie before we put the stuff in. They'll see the bite and won't even think it's been tampered with." The demon boy seemed to get enjoyment out of this plan. "I'll fix the twinkie and slip it into your lunch. Just remember- _don't_ eat it."

 

 

     Dean's plan seemed to work. Raphael and Gadreel stole his packed lunch at the bus stop that morning and when lunchtime rolled around, the two older boys were nowhere to be found. For the first time in what seemed like forever, Castiel was able to sit in the cafeteria unbothered.

     When recess came around, Castiel took a pass to the library like he did every day. The librarian gave him a wave and he returned her greeting with a smile. The boy took his usual seat in the comfortable armchair that hid behind a bookcase in the corner of the library. He pulled his feet up underneath him and took out the book he was halfway through reading.

     "Did it work?" Dean's voice startled him and the book fell loudly to the floor. Castiel was _certain_ that the demon hadn't been standing there just a few seconds ago.

     " _Dean!_ What are you doing here?" Castiel hissed in a whisper. "This is _school!"_ Dean stared at him, completely unphased by his surprise.

     "No one else can see me. This big shelf of books is in the way." he pointed out, his tail bouncing from side to side with amusement. "Did they take the bait?" He sat on the arm of the chair and perched there like a bird. Somehow he looked even more unrealistic under the fluourescent lights. Castiel sighed heavily and looked around the corner of the bookshelf. The librarian was still sitting at her desk, completely unaware of the monster's presence.

     "I think so." he whispered. "I didn't see them at lunch. I think they went home sick." Dean smirked.

     "Good. I wanted to make sure it worked."

     "Dean-" Castiel continued uncertainly, "-how did you _get_ here?"

     "I can go wherever I want." Dean stated defensively.

     "Yeah, but... _how?"_ He couldn't imagine Dean rode the bus here, or stole a car, or even hitchhiked. The demon seemed amused by Castiel's confusion.

     "Just like this." Dean lifted his hand, snapped his fingers, and vanished into thin air. Castiel had to hide his gasp of surprise behind a cough. A moment later, the demon appeared on the other arm of the chair, startling him again. The eight year old stared in amazement.

     "That's so _cool_." he whispered in amazement. "You can go wherever you want?" Dean nodded. "So where did you go just now?" Dean grinned, revealing his teeth.

     "To the candy store down the road." He pulled a handful of hard candy out of the pocket of his jacket and offered some to the blue-eyed boy. Castiel hesitantly ate a piece and chewed it loudly, trying not to remember that Dean probably stole it. "So this is where humans go for half of their waking day?" Dean went on, looking unimpressed. He reached in front of Castiel and pulled out a random book from the shelf, reading its title and then putting it back.

     "Just the little humans." Castiel corrected him with a smile. It was strange having Dean in the library with him, or even at school at all. He was so used to being a lone wolf and school was a place he associated with being isolated. It was nice having someone to talk to, even if it was behind the shelter of a bookcase.

     "Wouldn't you rather stay home and play with me?" Dean asked, surprising Castiel and leaving him without words. Reading a stack of comic books together had obviously proved well for their developing friendship, because Castiel had seen more of Dean today than he had in a week. He didn't mind, and in fact he quite enjoyed the company of the little black-eyed boy. Hearing _Dean_ ask to hang out gave him a feeling unknown to him, as if there were a mass of butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

     For the first time, he was the one being asked to hang out.

     Castiel sat down in the armchair, almost ignoring the demon sitting close beside him. Dean's question still bounced around his head.

     "We could go home and read more comics." He went on, leaning down and resting his chin on the boy's shoulder. Castiel could feel Dean's cold breath in his ear. "Please? I get so _bored_ sitting around all day."

     Castiel didn't want to refuse his offer, but recess would be over within twenty minutes and then he would have to return to class. Class was important. He brushed the demon away.

     "I can't." he frowned. "I have to stay here until the end of the day." The disappointment was visible in Dean's eyes. His smile fell and he puffed out a breath of air from his chest. "But we can hang out after school!" Castiel quickly continued. "We can do whatever you want, okay?"

     Dean's eyes shined and he nodded his head.

     "Deal." The demon lifted a hand and snapped his fingers. He was gone before Castiel could open his mouth to reply. Castiel was left alone in the library, with the same book laying in his lap. It remained unopened for the rest of the hour.

 

 

     During the last hour of class, Castiel Novak was called to the principal's office. His stomach lurched up into his throat as he followed the office aid out of the classroom and down the hallway. He walked a few steps behind her, wondering if he could trip and break his nose. They would have to take him to the hospital instead of to the principal's office, where bad kids went when they did bad things. Castiel knew he was getting brought to the principal's office because he had been bad.

     His fears were confirmed when he walked in the main office to see Raphael and Gadreel sitting in chairs against the wall. The office aid told Castiel to sit down as well while she fetched the principal. The eight year old boy slowly sunk down into the chair beside Gadreel. Every muscle in his body felt stiff and strained.

     Surprisingly, neither bully said anything to Castiel. They were both staring solemnly at the ground, and Raphael looked more upset than he did angry. He decided not to look at them. They sat in silence for a minute or two, which felt more like an eternity to Castiel as he awaited his fate.

     "Castiel?" The principal called from down the hall. "Will you come to my office, please?" The boy slowly stood up, knotting his fingers in the hem of his sweater and meandering over. He had never been in the principal's office before. The only office he was ever called to was the councilor's office, and that was across the hall. Yet when he entered the principal's office, he was surprised to see his councilor sitting in one of the chairs.

     "Mr. Crowley?" he tilted his head, taking the seat beside him. "What're you doing here?" The man didn't answer him, but he gave him a comforting smile and looked towards the principal. She was a slender little woman with dark hair and bright eyes. Nothing about her was intimidating, except for the fact that her job was to punish wayward children at Pontiac Elementary.

     "Hello, Castiel." she smiled, taking the seat across from them at her desk. "I don't believe we've personally met." She reached over and spun the nametag on her desk to face her so Castiel couldn't read it. "You can call me Hannah, okay?"

     "O-okay." Castiel whispered, staring at one of the plaques that hung on the wall. There were a few of them, but he focused on one just like he focused on the lumpy elephant in Mr. Crowley's office.

     "Do you know why you're in here, Castiel?" Hannah asked him gently, leaning forward in her chair. Castiel knew that he was there for putting nasty stuff in his twinkie. But he decided to act dumb and shook his head. The woman's expression was soft. "Do you know those boys that are sitting in the office?" she continued. He felt as if he was about to get sick.

     "Y-yes." he murmured. "T-they go to my bus stop." Hannah paused for a moment and glanced towards Mr. Crowley.

   "You don't have to be afraid, Castiel. You're not in trouble." she assured him. Castiel lifted his head, and his eyes darted from the gold plaque on the wall to Hannah's blue eyes.

     "I'm not?"

     "No, Castiel. Here at Pontiac Elementary, we have a strict no-bullying policy." she went on. "We had an anonymous report of those boys bullying you. Will you tell me or Mr. Crowley what those boys say to you in the mornings?"

     Reality began to dawn upon Castiel and he straightened up. He wasn't getting called to the office for the twinkie. He was getting called to the office so Raphael and Gadreel would get in trouble! His blue eyes gazed around the room, searching for something else to focus on. He couldn't snitch on them. If he got them in trouble, they would surely beat him up later. Maybe if he lied, they would be easy on him.

     "N-no, they don't bully me." he lied, staring at the little pot of flowers on the corner of her desk. "They're just playing."

     A strong hand rested on his shoulder and his councilor leaned into his ear.

     "We know the truth, Castiel. Don't let your anxiety get the best of you. Why don't you want those boys to get in trouble? Are you afraid that they'll hurt you?"

     Castiel winced and sunk his neck into his shoulders. His body locked up and he felt his knees began to shake.

     "N-no, I-I-I-"

     He began to sob.

 

 

     Michael was called to pick him up early. The eldest Novak showed up in his business attire, having come straight from his work, which only made Castiel feel worse. He didn't _ask_ to be picked up. Once he had exploded into tears, Mr. Crowley fetched him a cup of water and a box of tissues, as well as the lumpy elephant with the limp trunk. Castiel squeezed the elephant for some time and several tissues were dirtied with his snot before he was able to calm down. He told the principal how Raphael and Gadreel would steal his lunches in the morning and pull his hair on the bus. He told her how they shoved him into walls and teased him. He told them that he tried to sneak vanilla digestive into the twinkie to keep them from stealing his lunch again, and that he was _really_ sorry.

     He explained, with a sniffle, that Raphael and Gadreel weren't the only ones to treat him that way.

     After a short talk alone with the principal, Michael put his hand on Castiel's shoulders and lead him out of the office.

     Castiel threw his backpack into the back seat and climbed in after it, snapping on his seatbelt without a word. Michael pulled out of the parking lot and was halfway down the road before he spoke.

     "You should have told me." Michael said firmly. "You should have told me before it got out of hand." The boy remained quiet, unable to answer without breaking into another fit of tears. "How long have they been taking your lunches, Cas? Am I really paying for their goddamn lunch every day? Because I could have sworn I was making those lunches for you!"

     Michael didn't often swear, but when he did, it startled him. Castiel sunk his teeth into his lower lip until he tasted blood.

     "I'm sorry Cas. I didn't mean to raise my voice. But why wouldn't you tell me?" he asked, glancing back at his little brother through the rearview mirror. The boy's heart sunk, feeling saddened by his brother's concern.

     "I didn't want you to worry." he frowned, resting his head against the window and closing his eyes. Michael let out an audible sigh. "People... don't _like_ me." he whimpered, feeling tears clouding his waterline again.

     The elder Novak pulled into the driveway of their quant two-story home. He parked the car and turned around in his seat, looking back at Castiel with a concerned frown. The boy stared at the half-melted crayon on the floor, determined not to catch Michael's gaze.

     "That's not true, Cas. They just don't understand." Michael reached into the back seat and put his hand on Castiel's knee. "...It's getting worse, isn't it?"

     Castiel clenched his fists, and his little knuckles turned white with a flurry of emotions that he was too upset to speak of. He slowly nodded his head, and then the waterworks resumed and he began to shout,

   "It's not fair! They all make fun of me but they don't understand what I've been through! They have their mommies and daddies! They didn't watch them _die_! They don't hear them screaming every time they close their eyes!"

     At this point, Michael got out of the car and opened Castiel's door. He reached in and put his arms around his brother, scooping him out and carrying him to the hood of the car. He sat him down there and kept his hands on the small boy's shoulders.

     "They aren't ever going to understand, Cas. If they do, let God have mercy on them because it's the worst feeling in the world." Michael frowned, squeezing his frail shoulders. "Sometimes bad things happen, kiddo. Bad things happen and there is absolutely nothing that we can do about it. But remember what I told you? You've got to stay strong, Cas. That's what Mom and Dad would want."

     Castiel wrapped his arms around Michael and hugged him tightly, burrowing his blotchy red face into the crook of his brother's neck. His cries turned to low moans that were muffled into the collar of Michael's suit. It took all of his strength not to join his little brother's mourning, but the twenty-two year old man reminded himself that he was the head of the family now. Staying strong was something he didn't have a choice in.

     Completely unnoticed from the second story window, Dean blinked unusual tears from his dark eyes and let the curtain fall back.

 

 

     Mr. and Mrs. Novak were killed in head-on collision on a foggy night in June. Castiel was the only child in the car. The five year old miraculously survived the fatal accident that took the lives of both his parents and nineteen year old Michael was signed over as his guardian. At age six, he was diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. He began child therapy at the same time he began Kindergarden. His anxiety kept him separated from the other kids and Michael had to fight for him to pass into the first grade because his teacher feared he was too _anti-social_.

     At age seven, he began taking anxiety medication. It made him sick, so he stopped. He moved into the second grade and began to get bullied, but he was too afraid to speak up about it. Gabriel started playing pranks because it was his own way of dealing with the loss of Mr. and Mrs. Novak. He didn't understand that Castiel had something called _panic attacks_ or why his brother didn't laugh it off like the other kids at school.

     At age eight, he went into the third grade. He read at a college level and liked to stay home by himself. He continued to see Mr. Crowley every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon, but it didn't seem to help.

     He had flashbacks.

     Then he met Dean Winchester. The strange boy distracted him from the nightmares and anxiety attacks. He may have cursed too often and ate half the box of Oreo's before Castiel got any, but Dean was a good guy. Most importantly, he didn't treat Castiel like he was _different._

That's why when Castiel went up to his bedroom with his tear-stained face and his runny nose, the demon sitting on his bed didn't ask him what was wrong or why he had been crying. He gave Castiel a toothy grin and held up a comic book, asking if he wanted to read as "Spider-Man" or "The Green Goblin".

     And Castiel was thankful.

 

  
**Art by: Fuchsia_Light**  



	4. It's the Great Pumpkin, Dean Winchester!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael meets Dean for the first time and isn't sure what to think of the mysterious (and slightly creepy) boy. Trick-or-treating excitement. Lots of free candy. Scaring strangers. What's not to like about Halloween? They don't celebrate Halloween in the monster world, so naturally, Dean can't wait to experience a new human tradition with his best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe how much hype this story is getting! A huuuuuge thank you to everyone who has left kudos, comments, or bookmarked this fic! Please keep spreading the word and following this story! You guys are my inspiration to write! I was really hoping to upload this chapter last Friday for Halloween, but I didn't get to finish it until tonight. This will (most likely) be the last chapter about being kids, but no where near the last chapter of the story. So here it is guys, the fourth installment of Under My Bed: Halloween Edition!

     Mid-October came and went. Halloween was creeping closer by the day and Castiel, who had never been fond of the frightening, candy-collecting holiday, was trying to ignore the Halloween-inspired activities that Michael was trying to plan. He already skipped out on the haunted hay ride at the farm down the road, he didn't pick out a costume at the store, and when it came time to buy pumpkins, Castiel kindly requested to stay home.

     The upside to this was that he was now spending most of his time with Dean. The demon boy was constantly popping in to see Castiel, whether it was to steal a bite to eat from the Novak's kitchen or to read his comic books. He stuck around unless Castiel asked him to leave, which he usually did during the school hours.

     Ever since the visit to the principal's office, Michael had plucked Castiel out of school and placed him into a homeschooling program. This was much more difficult, considering Michael had to work a full-time job, but it did eliminate the bullying problem. Castiel did most of his studying by himself, and on special days a teacher named Ms. Rowena would come with worksheets or quizzes for him to work on. He still saw Mr. Crowley on Tuesdays, but it was after school hours and Michael had to drive him there.

     He liked it better this way.

     It seemed like Michael was trying to compensate for pulling Castiel out of school by treating the kids to an all-out Halloween, but it just so happened that Halloween was Castiel's least favorite day of the year, and he wasn't so thrilled as Gabriel and Anna were.

     He didn't like the kids who wore scary masks or the grown-ups who decorated their houses with zombies and monsters that didn't look anything like Dean. He didn't even care about going trick-or-treating, because it involved both getting scared _and_ talking to strangers.

     While Michael took Gabriel and Anna to find good carving pumpkins, Castiel sat on the couch with Dean, watching a re-run of an old cartoon. There was a bowl of popcorn sitting between them, being that it was one of Dean's favorite snacks, and the demon continued to take handfuls before the boy could get any.

     "Halloween is tomorrow." Castiel sighed, bringing his legs up onto the couch.

     "What's Halloween?" Dean asked past a mouthful of popcorn. His tail thwacked contently against the arm of the sofa.

     "You don't have Halloween where you're from?" The boy was surprised to hear that not everyone celebrated the spooky holiday. Dean shook his head and crunched particularly loud on a kernel. "Halloween is... a day where everyone dresses up like scary monsters or superheroes and knocks on strangers' doors for candy."

     "Free candy? That sounds great!" Dean shouted, jumping up to his feet. "Let's go! Let's go right now!" Castiel laughed and had to quiet him.

     "Halloween isn't 'til tomorrow night." he reminded him. "It only happens one night a year. People carve pumpkins into scary faces and you carry buckets to collect candy and... well, it sounds fun, but I don't like it very much." he confessed. "It's too scary."

     Dean only seemed concentrated on one thing.

     "But Cas! The candy!" he whined, grabbing hold of the boy's arm and giving it a shake. "Please, please, _please_ let me come with you for Halloween!" His black eyes glistened with hope. " _Please?_ "

     "I'm not even going." Castiel told him, pulling his arm away and turning up the volume of the cartoon. "You can go with Gabriel and Anna."

     "I don't like them." Dean huffed. "Besides, if they knew about me, they'd want me to be their friend too."

     "Wow Dean. What a big _ego_ you have." Castiel teased him. But Dean was probably right. If anyone knew that Castiel was friends with a real monster, they might try to take him away. Dean rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

     "You have to admit, it'd be a lot more fun if we went together... and if everyone is dressed like monsters, I wouldn't even have to hide!" He grinned with a mouthful of razorblade teeth. Castiel pursed his lips.

     "I don't even have a costume." he pointed out.

     "Come on, Cas. I can find you a cool costume before tomorrow night. You're not seriously going to deny me buckets of free candy, are you?" He narrowed his onyx eyes. "If you don't let me come to Halloween with you, then I'll just find someone else's bed to sleep under!" he declared. Castiel gasped.

     "No you wouldn't!"

     "You don't know that. So you better let me come with you."

     "I don't want to go in the first place."

     The two boys glared at each other for a long moment, with nothing but cartoon voices in the background to break the silence.

     "You hate me." he said curtly. "You want me to be miserable."

     "That's not true!"

     "Then let's go to Halloween together!" Dean shouted excitedly. "It'll be fun, Cas. I promise! We can stay up all night and eat all the candy we want!"

     Tired of listening to Dean's pleas, Castiel finally rolled his eyes and muttered a quick "fine". The demon jumped up and down several times, expressing his excitement in the same way Castiel had taught him before. Castiel watched him with a half-hearted smile, but his throat felt heavy. He hadn't been trick-or-treating since he was six. That night had turned out to be a disaster of tears and wailing, which resulted in Michael having to bring him home early. He would have much rather sat home and read a nice book instead- something that wouldn't give him nightmares.

     "Don't let anyone scare me, okay?" Castiel frowned, turning to face his friend. Dean was still jumping in the middle of the living room, and Castiel wasn't sure if he had really heard him or not.

     "Yeah, yeah, I got it!"

     When Michael returned home later with three large pumpkins in his arms, Gabriel and Anna were fighting over which one of the pumpkins they wanted to carve. Castiel was sitting at the kitchen table with a mug of hot cocoa to warm his hands, and he blocked their bickering out of his ears while he watched Michael.

     "I'm going to go trick-or-treating tomorrow." he told him, squeezing the mug. Michael noisily dropped a box of pumpkin-carving tools and spun around.

     "You are?" he blinked in surprise.

     "Mhm."

     Michael walked over and put his hand on the boy's back.

     "I thought you hated trick-or-treating. What made you change your mind?"

     "Dean really wants me to go with him this year." Castiel admitted.

     "Ahh, the mysterious Dean Winchester." Michael smiled and took the seat beside his youngest brother. "Does that mean I'll finally get to meet this friend of yours?"

     Castiel had mentioned Dean to Michael before. He lied and said that he met Dean at school, but he didn't give many details about the demon boy, and he certainly didn't introduce them. All Michael knew was that Dean Winchester liked comic books and and that he and Castiel had only seen each other a few times, which was certainly a lie. (If Michael knew that Dean slept under his bed at night, he would probably worry.) Castiel tried not to say too much about his friend to Michael or anyone else.

     If Dean was going to go trick-or-treating with them, then he would _have_ to introduce him to his family. That was what he was most afraid of. They would either be terrified or jealous, Castiel was sure of it.

     "Yeah, I guess. He's pretty shy though." Castiel sighed, taking a long sip of his hot cocoa, which was more lukewarm now. "He might not say much."

 

 

     "Happy Halloween!" Dean stood on the front porch of the Novak house with the handle of a plastic pumpkin-shaped bucket gripped tightly in his hands. He opened his mouth wide to reveal layers of sharp teeth. "Trick-or-treat! Wait, what if they say trick? What am I supposed to do then?" He mumbled the last part to himself, trailing off into a trainwreck of thought.

     "Dean, it's not time for trick-or-treating yet." Castiel said as he opened the front door and let him inside. "That doesn't start 'til after dark." The demon's tail fell to the ground and he lowered his bucket. "Why did you bother coming to the door, anyway?"

     "I was practicing." Dean brightened up again, dropping his pumpkin bucket to the floor and examining Castiel with a raised eyebrow. "What's on your head, Cas?" He pointed at the two cardboard toilet-paper rolls that were crinkled and strapped onto either side of the boy's head by a piece of yarn. Castiel stepped back and looked down at himself.

     "It's my costume." he frowned. There was a pregnant pause between the two of them until a rough snort erupted from Dean's nostrils.

     "What are you supposed to be? A toilet paper monster?" Dean continued to cackle and examine Castiel's pathetic attempt at a Halloween costume.

     "I'm a _demon,_ Dean. Like you." Castiel lifted a hand to adjust one of the makeshift horns on his head. His answer only made Dean laugh harder.

     "Oh... _oh,_ I see it!" The demon laughed, picking up the loose piece of yarn that hung down from the back of Castiel's pants. "This is the tail... and those are the horns!" He continued to laugh. "That's great, Cas." 

     "You're being sarcastic..." Castiel grumbled, ripping the cardboard horns from his head and throwing them angrily towards the ground. Dean stifled his laughs.

     "I just have to fix you up, that's all." The demon strode past him towards the kitchen, no doubt to get a snack to tide him over until trick-or-treating. Castiel remained rooted to the floor, glaring down at the toilet paper roll headband.

     _Stupid Halloween,_ he thought.

     A sudden scream startled him and the boy quickly remembered that they weren't home alone. Castiel rushed into the kitchen, nearly tripping over his feet. Michael was standing with his hand over his heart and looked as if he was having trouble catching his breath.

     "Hi!" Dean grinned, raising a clawed hand and waving it slightly towards the man. "I'm Dean!"

     "Dean. Yeah. Of course." Michael panted. "That's quite the costume you got there." He had to breath between sentences.

     "Aw, Cas! He got more scared than you did!" Dean snickered. Castiel knew that he was referring to the first time they met, when Dean climbed over the end of his bed.

     "Those are some spooky contacts." Michael went on, crouching down in front of the demon boy to examine his creepy features. "That's _amazing..._ How did you get those horns to stay on? They look so _real_..."

     "They _are_ real." Dean insisted. Castiel quickly stepped in front of his friend.

     "Dean's really good at Halloween stuff. He's gonna help me make a costume! Come on, Dean. Let's go upstairs and-"

     "You must be Michael. Cas has told me a bunch about you." Dean put a hand out to shake Michael's, and the older Novak took it hesitantly. Castiel noticed him shudder when Dean's nails lightly scraped his skin.

     "Nothing bad, I hope." Michael slowly pulled away. "It's good to see Castiel making friends. How'd you get here? I was hoping I could meet your parents..."

     "Oh, I walked here myself. I don't live too far." Dean lied smoothly.

     "Is that so?" Michael smiled. "Are you excited to go trick-or-treating?"

      Dean nodded quickly.

     "Yeah, I've never been trick-or-treating before. It's my first time, so I wanted it to be special." He flicked his tail from side to side, and Michael eyed it warily.

     Castiel grabbed Dean's hand and made a run for the stairs before Michael could ask any more questions.

     "We've really gotta work on my costume now!" he shouted frantically, practically lugging Dean up the stairs. Michael stared after them until the two boys disappeared up the staircase and out of sight.

     Before they could make it to Castiel's room, a little red-headed girl walked out of the bathroom and stopped in her tracks at the sight of Dean and his demon features. Feeling her watchful eyes on his back, Dean suspensefully spun around to face her with a wide toothy grin.

     Anna took off running down the stairs, screaming in a pitch that could have shattered glass.

     Castiel yanked Dean into his bedroom and slammed the door shut before Dean's appearance could cause any more screams in the Novak household.

     The demon sat on the floor with a smug look on his face, as if making little girls and grown men scream was something he was proud of.

     "Alright, rule number one..." Castiel panted, stepping lightly on Dean's twitchy tail with his socked foot. "You can't move this."

     Dean tilted his head.

     "My tail? Why not?" He yanked his tail back and flicked it around several times. "It does what it wants, Cas."

     "Halloween costumes don't have moving tails. I don't know how to explain that to Michael. It's awfully suspicious... The second rule is that if someone says anything about your costume, you just gotta say thank you. Don't tell them that it's real. They can't know this is what you look like all the time because monsters aren't supposed to exist, okay?"

     Dean looked thoughtful and let out a puff of air from his lungs.

     "Fine." He was quiet for a moment. "I think Michael likes me."

     "I think Michael is _scared_ of you." Castiel corrected, yanking the makeshift tail off of his belt loop. "Are you gonna help me with my costume or not?"

     Unaffected by his comment, Dean leaped to his feet and glided behind Castiel, putting his cold hands on either side of his arms. He spun the boy around to look into the mirror, and smiled at the reflection he saw. His long ram horns made him a few inches taller, but otherwise the boys were approximately the same height. Castiel looked almost angelic and innocent standing next to such a disturbing looking creature. Still, Dean was pleased with what he saw. Castiel was his friend, and to him, it didn't matter what he looked like. Fortunately, Castiel had learned to think the same way.

     "You'd make a good vampire." the demon announced. "No offense Cas, but I think I'm a better demon than you." The boy cracked a smile in his reflection and wiggled out of Dean's grasp.

     "Fine, I'll be a vampire then. But I don't have a cape or anything." he mumbled, plopping down on his bed and bringing his knees up to his chin.

     "No big deal. My pal Benny probably has one you can borrow. Be right back." As if the demon was putting Castiel on hold, he snapped his fingers and vanished out of existence. He reappeared fifteen seconds later with a mound of black fabric in his arms, which he thrust towards the blue-eyed boy. "Here you go. A bonafide vampire cloak."

     Castiel examined the cloth in his hands and held it out in front of him. It was long and smooth as silk, nothing like the drug-store capes that Gabriel brought home.

     "A real vampire cloak?" he whispered. "Are you friends with a _real_ vampire?" Castiel was naive to think that he was Dean's only friend, especially when he came from a completely different world.

     "Oh, Benny isn't so bad. He said you can have this one 'cause it doesn't fit him anymore." Dean shrugged his pointed shoulders and leaned against the dresser. "If I knew any magic, I'd give you fangs too. Then you'd _really_ look like a vampire."

     Castiel stood and pulled the cloak around him. It was longer than himself but it draped over his shoulders like a blanket and instantly warmed him. Vampires must have been cold creatures. He was glad that he was only _dressed_ as a vampire, and not a real one.

     "It looks great." Dean commented. He leaned over and ruffled his hand through Castiel's fluffy dark hair, making it stick up in several directions. "There. Now you look like a real vampire." He stomped his foot impatiently. "Can we get candy now?"

     Castiel chuckled and admired his reflection, enjoying how the cloak fit him, even if it was a little big.

     "I've never met anyone so excited for Halloween before." he commented, flattening the ruffled hair on the top of his head. "Doesn't your world celebrate anything?"

     "Nah, just the King's corronation." Dean shrugged, taking his tail into his hands and letting it slither through his fingers. "That's only once every ten thousand years. We never celebrate or do anything fun. I can't believe humans do this every single year! No wonder so many of them are obese." He snickered. "I could definitely get used to it up here."

     Castiel tried to smile, but he was still thinking about what Dean had just said. Wherever Dean had come from, whatever world he had been born into, there seemed to be no such thing as happiness or fun. He didn't yet comprehend how different their worlds were, but he could only imagine Dean's world was very different from his own, and as selfish as it may have been, Castiel prayed to God that Dean wouldn't ever want to go back.

    

 

     Gabriel didn't react to Dean as Castiel had hoped. Unlike Anna, Gabriel didn't scream or shout when he saw Dean standing in the Novak's living room. Instead, he walked over and began poking and prodding at the demon boy with a stubby little finger. The middle Novak was dressed as a pirate, with a fake hook sticking out of his sleeve and a black patch over one eye. There was a plastic orange pumpkin bucket hanging from the fake hook.

     "Who are you?" he asked.

     "Dean." The black-eyed boy stuck out his hand, but Gabriel declined it.

     "I'm Gabe." The twelve-year old said proudly, filling his chest with air to make himself look bigger than he was. "Are you Cassie's friend? I didn't know he had any friends. Michael said you live in our neighborhood. How come I've never seen you? Why don't you go to our bus stop? Do you go to school with us? How old are you? What is your costume supposed to-"

     "Leave him alone." Castiel mumbled, stepping in front of his friend and separating the two of them. "Dean is _my_ friend, Gabriel. Go bother someone else."

     Offended, Gabriel lifted his hands defensively.

     "Gee, I was only just asking him some questions. What's your problem, Cassie?"

     "My name _isn't_ Cassie." Castiel frowned, crossing his arms. "Dean and I are gonna go trick-or-treating. We're gonna go the opposite way of you so you don't bother us the whole time."

     "You're such a jerk!" Gabriel shouted, giving his brother a shove backwards. Castiel lost his balance, but didn't fall because Dean shot his arm out behind the curve of his back. He felt sharp claws curl lightly around the side of his stomach.

     "Don't. _Touch._ Him." Dean growled in a surprisingly low tone. Gabriel took a fearful step backwards.

     "You guys are _weird._ " he muttered. "Whatever. Balthazar and I are going to his neighborhood to trick-or-treat. They give out _king-sized_ candy bars." Gabriel laughed and started walking down the hallway. "That means that you two have to take Anna!"

     Castiel groaned and rubbed his eyelids. Anna may have been two years older than Castiel, but she was a spoiled brat and often acted like she was the youngest. Dean finally retracted his hand from Castiel's side and glared after Gabriel.

     "That kid is a grade-A asshole." he grumbled. "Do you want me to beat him up for you?"

     "No, Dean. It's okay." Castiel sighed. "If Gabriel is going somewhere else to trick-or-treat, we gotta take Anna with us. Michael won't let her go alone. That means Charlie Bradbury will probably be there too." He looked hopeful. "Maybe they'll have so much fun that they'll leave us alone."

     "I don't care, as long as we get candy." Dean grinned. "It's almost sundown."

     Castiel looked out the front window. The sun was disappearing over the horizon and casting swirls of purple and pink across the sky. The streets were dark except for the patches of light that emitted from the sporatic street lights. Castiel could see a few houses that were decorated for the occasion with dull glowing lights on their porches and jack-o-lanterns in their driveways. Charlie's house was covered in fake spiderwebs, which was probably really hard to do. He respected the Bradbury's for putting so much effort into decorating. Castiel couldn't see any children on the streets yet, but he knew that the early birds would begin their rounds soon.

     "Okay, let's go get Anna." He said, hurrying up the stairs to his sister's room and knocking on the door. Dean followed him upstairs but lingered by the staircase. The small red-headed girl opened her door warily. Castiel could see that she was dressed as a Disney princess- The Little Mermaid, to be exact. Her long hair was in waves, she wore a little purple sea-shell top, and her skirt was long and shiny green, like fish scales. She looked up at Castiel with large eyes.

     "We're taking you trick-or-treating." Castiel told her, resting his forehead against the doorframe. Anna leaned past him, staring at the pale boy at the end of the hallway.

     " _We?_ " she whispered. Castiel couldn't help but to crack a smile.

     "That's Dean. He's my best friend." He explained to her, motioning back towards the young demon. "Don't worry, he's really nice." It wasn't exactly a lie. He was nice to _Castiel._

     The horned boy walked over and stopped just a foot away from Anna's door. Onyx eyes spotted the crown on her head and he unexpectedly leaned down, formally placing one hand behind his back and leaning forward in a graceful bow.

     "My princess." he smiled without parting his lips. "It's a pleasure."

     Anna's face turned pink and she began to shuffle her feet.

     "It's almost dark." Castiel interrupted her embarrassment. "Are you ready to go?"

     "Is Gabriel going?" she asked, running back to her bed to grab her pumpkin bucket. Dean took the opportunity to straighten up again.

     "No, he's going with Balthazar. Michael is staying here to hand out candy, but you can stay here if you really want."

     Anna shook her head rapidly and swung the door open the rest of the way, announcing that she was ready to go and that they had to stop by the Bradbury's to get Charlie too.

     "Bye kids! Have fun!" Michael called to them as they were disappearing out the front door. Dean stepped on the end of Castiel's cape and the door almost slammed shut on the demon's tail.

     "Are you ready for Halloween?" Castiel laughed quietly, pulling his cloak around him. Dean nodded and lifted his bucket up to his chest.

     "Thanks for letting me come with you, Cas. This is really cool." They stood at the end of the Bradbury's driveway while Anna ran up to fetch Charlie. Castiel tried to ignore the giant spider that was wrapped around his neighbor's mailbox.

     With Charlie and Anna in tow, the two young boys made their way to their first house.

     "You wanna ring the doorbell, Dean?" Castiel asked, motioning towards the front door. Dean hopped up the stairs and slammed his finger into the button, anxious to get candy for his bucket. An elderly woman opened the door and let out a tiny gasp at the sight of him, but she didn't have time to speak before the four children shouted "Trick or treat!" in chorus.

     "My, my!" She smiled, dumping a handful of candy into each of their buckets. "Happy Halloween!"

     "Thank you!" Anna and Charlie squealed, running off down the yard before Castiel and Dean could turn around. The woman closed the door and Dean turned to his friend after peeking inside his bucket.

     "This is the best ceremony ever. Humans are awesome." he grinned. Castiel smiled but did not agree, shuffling through the grass after his sister. The rest of the night seemed to follow this routine. The four of them would go up to a house together, the girls would run off, and Dean would make a comment to Castiel about how fun Halloween was and how he wished that it was Halloween every day. More than once, Castiel would see someone dressed in a scary costume or get frightened by a motion activated lawn decoration. He would grab onto Dean's sleeve, but the demon would only drag him along, assuring Castiel that there was nothing to be afraid of. Dean's excitement was radiant throughout the evening.

     "Can I ask you something?" Castiel asked as they made their way down the driveway of their last stop for the night. Charlie had gone home and Anna was shuffling sleepily behind them.

     "You just did." Dean said, unwrapping a piece of candy and popping it into his mouth. "Shoot."

     "Earlier when Gabriel pushed me, you got really mad." The boy said with a thoughtful tap to his mouth. "I don't think I've ever seen you so mad. How come?"

     The demon stopped walking and swallowed the lump of caramel in his throat. He seemed to think about his answer for a minute.

     "I dunno, Cas. You're my friend, and I don't want anything bad to happen to you. Your brother treats you awful and I hate it. I wish he would get in trouble too, just like those bullies." Castiel was relieved to hear Dean refer to him as his _friend_ for the second time, and he was even more relieved to hear that Dean was protective over him. It made him feel safe knowing that Dean would get that angry if anyone tried to hurt him.

     "Thanks, Dean." He smiled, stopping in front of his front porch. "Are you coming inside?" Dean waited to respond until Anna was already in the front door.

     "I'll meet you up there." he answered, giving his friend a short wave and snapping his fingers. Castiel smiled dumbly at the place where his monster friend once stood and turned to follow his sister inside. Michael was passed out on the couch with a few candy wrappers scattered across the coffee table. A quiet black and white movie played silently on the TV, and the living room glowed with the changing images. Castiel set his bucket on the kitchen table and went straight upstairs. He could hear Anna getting ready for bed in the bathroom and Gabriel's room was silent with his absence. Castiel walked into his room without bothering to turn on the bedside lamp. Dean was already sprawled out across his bed; an abandoned bucket of candy sitting in the middle of the floor. The demon's eyes were closed and a quiet snore rumbled in the back of his throat that sounded more like a cat's purr.

     Castiel carefully untied the vampire cloak and draped it over the back of his desk chair, making sure there were no wrinkles in case _Benny_ wanted it back after all. His feet were so sore from trekking across the neighborhood that he didn't bother to remove his shoes or his clothes, and instead went straight to his bed.

     Not having the heart or the strength to move Dean, Castiel decided to settle down beside him. The boy lay close and tugged the blankets up around them, making sure not to wake Dean with his movements. The young monster slumbered on, and after making sure Dean was properly covered with the blankets, Castiel set his head on the demon's shoulder and dozed off as well. The neon blue lights of his alarm clock read 12:00 AM and both began their sound sleep through the night, draped in each other's company.

     It would not be the last time.

 

 

**Fanart by: Nai-xn**

**Art by: Fuchsia_Light**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another huge thank you to Nai-xn for the fanart! I love Michael's kitty slippers!  
> Go check out her deviantart!  
> Inspired? Send me some fan art and I'll feature it in the next chapter!
> 
>  
> 
> [Nai-xn's Deviantart](http://nai-xn.deviantart.com/)


	5. The Dinner Guest (Part I)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seven years have passed since Castiel first found the little monster under his bed. Things have gotten better for the Novak family. As Castiel returns to school, Dean attends a different kind of class- one that taught him how to look like a human. Castiel decides it's time for the "human" Dean to meet his family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a miracle! I actually managed to finish this chapter the day before my deadline! *sigh of relief* Lots of thanks to all of you who have left kudos, bookmarked, and commented! Thanks to all of your kind words! An extra huge thank you to Nai-xn for the beautiful fanart! This is the beginning of a two-part chapter. I hope you don't mind the time gap between this chapter and the last, but I couldn't dwell on their childhood forever. 
> 
> If you're feeling inspired and would like to submit fanart, I'll feature it in the next chapter! (I secretly hope you all do this because I love fanart.) 
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: anxiety/panic attack behavior. I know that all anxiety is different, but I based this behavior on my own personal experiences.
> 
> -fuchsia light

     Over the course of seven years, life changed drastically for the Novak family. After nine years of working for the same computer company, Michael Novak was promoted to a high-paying position and came upon a small fortune. With the newly acquired money, he was able to work less hours and spend more time fixing up the home. The shutters no longer slammed against the siding with the wind, the basement had been furnished into an entertainment center, and a garage had been built for his new '98 Corvette.

      Gabriel Novak, now nineteen, wasted no time leaving the nest and spreading his wings to fly on his own. He moved out to Baltimore with his best friend Balthazar and worked as a dealer at a casino there. Life had matured him into a more responsible (but still rebellious) young man. He occasionally called to let the family know how he was doing, but he was only seen on holidays.

     Anna, a spunky seventeen, was an aspiring artist. Her sweet personality and tempting looks got the attention of every boy in school, though she only had eyes for her best friend, Charlie Bradbury. The two were exclusive, but Michael didn't know that (and she begged Castiel not to tell him). She was always good at listening and giving advice, which came in handy when Castiel made the daring decision to return to public school.

     After being homeschooled since he was eight, Castiel hadn't been prepared for the transition. The first day of his freshman year, he walked into the wrong classroom, got reprimanded for forgetting his uniform's tie, and got shoved into a locker by a passing upperclassman. Although the classwork was hardly a challenge for him, Castiel's biggest problem was fitting in with the same group of students he had desperately wanted to get away from in elementary school. Had he not scored so well on his entrance exams, he may have been placed in a disability program for his lack of public schooling and mental health records.

     While Castiel engaged in the traumatic experiences of high school, Dean was having struggles of his own. The demon boy, who had now grown into his ram horns and no longer tripped over the length of his tail, had recently been enrolled into a priliminary magic course called the Wizardry of Ravenous Monster Studies, or WORMS for short. Every morning, at approximately the same time Castiel left for school, Dean popped back into his own world and attended lessons on basic magic practices with a mass of other teenage monsters.

     The upside of this arrangement was that Dean would return with new little tricks to impress his best friend with. He learned how to flicker the power, move small things with his mind, and even mute the Bradbury's yappy dog. Dean had also been assigned something called a "hell hound", which Castiel didn't quite understand.

     "It's like a monster dog. Humans can't see 'em, but I get one as part of the job." Dean explained one afternoon. "When a human makes a deal with a demon, they've got a set number of years before their soul is collected. Fido is the one to tear it out of them."

     Castiel hadn't asked about Dean's hell hound since then, although he was assured that he was completely safe. He was also reminded that the hell hounds remained in the monster realm unless called by their masters, which was comforting. Dean's "destiny" was to become a full-grown demon who collected souls for the rest of eternity. With a hell hound by his side, Dean would soon be considered someone's worst nightmare.

     The friendship between Castiel and Dean had only grown since they were eight. Although Dean made frequent trips to his own world, he spent the majority of his time with Castiel on Earth.

     Since he had grown, the demon was no longer able to fit beneath his friend's bed. Luckily, the boy's new queen-sized bed was large enough for both of them to sleep comfortably without bumping into each other too much during the night. There had been one occasion that Castiel had awoken with a bleeding scratch on his arm from where Dean's claws had nicked him, but it was small enough to hide with a band-aid. Michael didn't ask about it, and the two boys continued to sleep together nonetheless.

     There was some suspicion as to why Dean was only around on Halloween, always wearing the same demon-getup as the year before, but Castiel assured his family that it was because Dean went to a _private school_ now and they could only keep up through emails and text messages. In reality, Dean spent nearly every day with Castiel, and they had grown to be somewhat of brothers, if not closer. Castiel was surprised how close they had become, and how fond he was of his horned friend.

     But the biggest surprise came when Dean returned from class one afternoon with a smug grin on his face full of _human_ teeth and the brightest _green_ eyes that Castiel had ever seen. The fifteen-year old demon was no longer sporting his black ram horns or the slithery spade tail, and his nails were trimmed short and rounded. He looked _normal._

     "D-Dean?" Castiel was startled to see this average boy appearing suddenly in his bedroom, and had he not known better, he would have assumed it was a completely different person than the Dean Winchester he knew.

     "That's me." The blonde snickered, crossing his lanky arms over his chest. "What do you think? I learned how to do it in WORMS today. It's not perminent... I can only hold it for a few hours, at the most." Dean turned to face the mirror and stared at his reflection. Castiel watched him roll his unnatural green eyes from side to side, watching them dilate with fascination.

     "It's amazing!" Castiel cooed, rushing over to stand beside his friend. "You look like a real human!"

     "That's the point, dumbass." Dean chortled, reaching over to ruffle Castiel's hair lightly. His usually cold fingertips felt warm against his scalp. "Like I said, it's only temporary. I'm still a novice, you know?"

     The raven-haired teen nodded and forced himself to look away, or he would have been staring at emerald eyes for the rest of the night.    

     "It's really cool." Castiel whispered, tugging on the end of his tie with his fingers. He had just returned from school and hadn't changed out of his uniform yet. All of the students at Pontiac High School had a dress code- white dress shirt, khaki pants, and a blue tie. Castiel didn't mind the uniform. It eliminated the struggle of trying to choose something from his closet every morning.

     Castiel slipped off the tie and draped it in its place over his desk chair. His shirt soon followed and was hung up in his closet. As the boy was turned towards his open closet doors, he heard something that sounded like a growl from Dean.

     "What happened?" he demanded. The fifteen year old didn't need to turn around to see what he was pointing at. His side had ached deeply when he reached up to grab the hanger, and he had already suspected why. With a glance towards his mirror, Castiel could see the blues and purples that had marked his torso, stretching from the right side of his hip around to his back.

     "I fell down in gym." Castiel mumbled, quickly grabbing a sweater to slip on and hide the bruises. There was a firm _human_ hand on his wrist, forcing him to stop.

     "What _really_ happened?" he repeated. Green eyes stared unblinkingly into blue. Castiel gently tugged his wrist away and fixed the sweater around his body.

     "Alright. I got shoved into a desk... are you happy?" He was always embarrassed to admit being bullied to Dean, who had the tendency to be a smidge overprotective.

     "Who did it?" Dean cracked his knuckles in front of his chest. "I'll kill them."

     "No! Dean, it's okay, really!" he argued. "It was probably just an accident." Even though Castiel was _very_ certain that it hadn't been an accident, since the boy who had done it had given him a dirty glare afterwards and told him to "stay out of the way". "I'm just fragile."

     "Well that's not a lie." Dean sighed, putting his hand on Castiel's shoulder and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "You should put some ice on it."

     The demon disappeared and returned a moment later with a bag of frozen vegetables from the freezer downstairs.

     "Do you really have to teleport everywhere?" Castiel smiled, taking the frozen bag graciously and holding it to the curve of his waist. "You only had to go down the stairs. You're getting lazy."

     "There's a difference between being lazy and being efficient." Dean grinned, showing off the flat teeth of a human instead of his jagged fangs.

    Castiel chuckled, sinking down to the edge of his bed. He allowed Dean to hold the bag to his back while he wiggled out of his khakis and folded them neatly. The demon did not comment as Castiel changed, and his eyes did not wander towards his naked legs and the blue plaid of his boxers. "I like you as a human." The boy spoke as he got up to set his folded pants on his desk. He pulled on a pair of jeans and returned to the bed so that Dean could hold the ice pack to his bruise again. Castiel tried not to wriggle away from the frosty plastic.

     "Hmm." Dean responded. "It's weird, but I like it too."

     "Now that you can look like a human, you could stay for dinner." the boy suggested hopefully. "Michael would be really happy to see you without horns, I think." He watched Dean ponder the suggestion in his mind, and the way his green eyes squinted slightly.

     "Hmm." he hummed again.

     "I would be really happy too." he added. This made Dean crack another smile.

     "Yeah, okay. I think I can manage it."

     The acceptance of his offer cheered up the raven-haired teen and he completely forgot about the bruise on his back. Michael would be home from work at eight and Anna was in her room with Charlie. Dean took the opportunity to rest his powers, returning to his natural demon appearance and lounging on the bed with a comic book in his claws.

     "So I was thinking." Dean piped up, dropping the book to his chest and gazing over at his friend. Castiel was at his desk with his nose in an open textbook, scribbling something into a notebook next to him. "Since I'm coming to dinner with your family, you should come to dinner with mine sometime."

     Castiel dropped his pencil.

     "What?"

     For whatever reason, Castiel had grown up believing that Dean Winchester didn't have any family. After all, he spent most of his time away from his home world and he never mentioned having parents or siblings. He faintly remembered several years ago when he asked Dean about his family, and the demon had shut down completely and disappeared for nearly a week. The sudden mention of Dean's family- and the invitation to meet them- was surprising, to say the least.

     "You have a family?" he gawked awkwardly, spinning around in his desk chair. "No offense, Dean, but since _when?_ "

     "Since always." Dean answered curtly, sitting up and letting the open comic slip onto the floor.

     "Really?" he asked eagerly. "What are your parents like?"

     "Parent. Mom's dead." the demon corrected him. "Dad's a real asshole, but I think he'd be alright with you. It's not like Sa-" Dean cut himself off, and Castiel sat in an uncomfortable silence until he was ready to continue. "Look, Cas. There's something about me that you really need to know."

     Castiel got up from his desk chair and joined his demon friend on the bed, feeling the urgency in his tone. A spade-shaped tail curled around Castiel's waist.

     "I'm not a real demon." he admitted with a grumble.

     "What do you mean?" the boy tilted his head.

     Of course Dean was a demon. He had big horns and black eyes and sharp teeth that gave children nightmares. He lived in another world where they taught magic and handed out hell hounds. _Of course_ Dean was a demon.

     "I'm only half of a demon." Dean sighed and avoided eye contact, as if he was ashamed of himself. "My dad's a demon, but my mom was a human. I got a good dose of demon traits, but I'm not a pure-blood."

     Castiel smiled and set his hand on Dean's shoulder reassuringly.

     "What's so bad about that?"

     "You didn't let me finish." Dean snapped. He quickly retracted his hand. "My little brother wasn't so lucky. He was born a human, like Mom. She died giving birth to him, and Dad never forgave Sammy for it." The demon looked nauseous, and then incredibly angry. "He threw him out as a baby. Disowned the poor kid and left him in the hands of a stranger." Castiel pursed his lips but said nothing, listening to Dean as he spoke through his memories.

     "I was so pissed that I left home. I found a guy who was willing to train me in collecting souls, but I was too young, so he sent me off to learn the basics of being a monster: scaring kids. That's when you came into the picture." Dean smiled slightly.

     "That's why you were so upset when I asked if you had any siblings." Castiel murmured thoughtfully. Dean confirmed his theory with a nod.

     "I never blamed Sam for Mom's death. He's my little brother, for fuck's sake..." he trailed off and fixed his onyx eyes onto a spot in the distance. "But then things changed. Sam started showing signs... eyes flickering, the ability to move things with his mind... hurt people... Dad was quick to take him in after that." Dean snorted. "So proud that his young son turned out to be part demon after all."

     "How old is he?" Castiel asked.

     "He just turned eleven. He's a great kid. You'll love him."

     Castiel wouldn't mind meeting his little human-like brother, but his _father_ was something else completely. He couldn't shake the image of a larger, scarier version of Dean with giant horns and dark eyes like empty sockets.

     "Can I really go to your world with you?" he whispered, tightening his fingers in the hem of his sweater and knotting it into his fist. "Is that allowed?"

     "It's allowed. Just not common. Humans are to my world as I am to your world... you never see them, but you know they exist." The demon gazed across the bedroom. "A human can only enter our realm with the help of a monster, so your kind is rare to see."

     Castiel felt his stomach lurch at the idea of getting eaten by monsters like some kind of exotic cuisine. Dean could sense his unease and slapped his back with a laugh.

     "Don't worry, Cas. I won't let anything bad happen to you. I promise. You trust me, don't you?"

     He did trust Dean, so the blue-eyed boy nodded and painted a smile across his face. If Dean wanted him to meet his family, it was only fair. Friendships worked two ways, and Dean was always holding up his end. It was time that naive Castiel held up his own.

     "Okay. I'll do it." he softly agreed. The demon clapped his hands together excitedly and returned to his lounging position on the bed. The blue-eyed boy tried not to look too nervous as he returned to his desk chair; a mixture of fear and anxiety prickling at his skin.

     _Being friends with Dean is one thing... but going with him into a world full of monsters? I can't do it!_

 

 

     The black Corvette rumbled into the garage just a few minutes after eight o'clock. Castiel had already prepared dinner for five: tender grilled chicken thighs marinated in a garlic-butter sauce, fresh steamed vegetables, three-cheese mashed potatoes, and a hot apple pie for dessert. He had become quite the chef and moved around the kitchen naturally while human Dean sat at the table and watched him. It was still weird to turn around and see _green_ eyes staring at him from across the room, rather than the usual black ones.

     Anna and Charlie came downstairs giggling, drawn to the scent of food. As they entered the kitchen, Dean gave a slight wave and Anna's jaw dropped several inches.

     "Oh my God!" she squealed, running towards the demon and throwing her arms around him. "Dean! What the hell are you doing here?" Anna had taken a liking to Dean ever since they were kids, though she only ever saw him on Halloween, and never without black horns on his head.

     Dean hugged her back and laughed while Charlie eyed him awkwardly from a distance.

     "Cas! You didn't tell me Dean was coming!" Anna whipped around to face her brother, then sniffed the air. "Mmm, is that garlic chicken?"

     Castiel scooped a dallop of mashed potatoes onto a plate for Dean and looked for the juiciest piece of chicken for his hungry demon friend.

     "It was a last minute thing." he told her.

     "I was in town." Dean clarified, releasing the red-head and leaning his chair back on two legs. He put his feet up on the table and balanced there, lacing his fingers across his chest.

     Anna and Charlie went to the counter to make their own plates, and Anna continued to babble to Dean.

     "How long are you staying? It's been _forever_!"

     She was interrupted when Michael walked in from the garage, looking quite exhausted from the long work day.

     "Is that garlic chicken that I smell?" he asked, lifting his head as he set his suitcase on the ground. "I'm glad I didn't stop for fast food on the way home."

     "Michael! Look who's here!" Anna shouted. The twenty-nine year old man straightened up and faced the kitchen table. He seemed pleasantly surprised to see the blonde boy leaning back at the table.

     "Dean! What a surprise! What brings you to town? Halloween was last month." he joked.

     "Hey Michael." Dean gave the man a lazy wave and watched his own fingers as he did so, likely feeling strange that there were no long claws to extend his fingertips.

     Michael grabbed a plate and joined the kitchen table without bothering to change out of his suit. As soon as Castiel set Dean's ready-made plate in front of him, the demon began to eat. He picked up the piece of slippery chicken in his hand and took a rather large bite, shaking his head back and forth to tear off a piece with his mouth. His lack of sharp teeth made it difficult to get a mouthful, and his face screwed up with confusion as he tried to take a more efficient bite.

     He realized a moment later that the entire table was watching him with widened eyes.

     "Dean..." Castiel put his hand on Dean's shoulder lightly and leaned towards him to whisper into his ear. "You're supposed to use your silverware."

     The demon straightened up and stared at Castiel. Embarrassment washed over him and left his cheeks an unusual shade of pink.

     "Ahem... sorry." The blonde wiped his buttery-garlic hands on the nearby napkin and reached for his fork, eyeing it cautiously. He'd never used utensils for eating, and Castiel hadn't warned him that it wasn't proper table etiquette. The pointed utensil felt strange in his grip. "It's like a tiny pitchfork!" he exclaimed with a wiggle of excitement. His tail would have been wagging, had it been there. He stabbed the fork into the center of his mutilated chicken and held it up to his mouth.

     "You're right! This is easier!" He said as he took another bite.

     "Dean..." Castiel cleared his throat. "We usually say grace before we eat."

     The demon dropped his fork loudly and garlic butter sauce splattered up from his fallen chicken. He looked around the table at all of the other untouched plates and startled expressions. Michael particularly looked like he was about to hurl.

     "Sorry." he choked, wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeve. The eldest Novak coughed to clear the silence and lifted his hands up on either sides. Anna took his hand, Charlie took her other hand, Castiel took Charlie's hand, and then Dean found himself being reached out to on either side. He eagerly took Castiel's hand, but he was cautious to take Michael's.

     "Why are we holding hands?" he whispered to Castiel. The boy shushed him as Michael began to speak.

     "Dear Heavenly Father, please bless this food we are about to eat. Thank you for all of your blessings throughout the day. Thank you for getting us home safely and God, thank you for letting us join hands in your prayer tonight. I thank you for the presence of family and friends around this nourishment and I pray that you continue to watch over us God. I pray this in your most blessed and holy name, Amen."

     Dean looked horrified at the spoken ritual.

     The others picked up their eating utensils and elegantly began to eat. The demon watched Anna use the sharp blade to slice through the chicken and then eat the carefully cut portion with the tiny pitchfork. Charlie used her tiny ladle to eat a mouthful of mashed potatoes. Michael stabbed a piece of brocolli with his tiny pitchfork. When Dean turned his head to look at Castiel, the blue-eyed boy was watching him with an encouraging smile.

     "Go ahead." he whispered, lifting up the fork for Dean to see. The blonde mirrored his movement and lifted his own tiny pitchfork. Carefully observing Castiel's motions, Dean began to carefully eat. He was frustrated with how long it took to eat with the utensils when he could have easily eaten dinner with his hands.

     Casual conversation thankfully distracted Michael and the girls while Dean memorized the use of his silverware.

     "How is school going for you, Dean?" The eldest Novak asked. "Castiel said you're attending a private academy."

     The blonde nodded, poking a carrot with his fork.

     "It's alright. I've learned some pretty cool shit." he announced. Castiel slammed his foot ontop of Dean's and the demon squealed. Michael swallowed hard.

     "Dean!" Castiel hissed under his breath. " _Language._ "

     "That's uh, great." Michael tried to smile. "Your parents must be pretty rich then, huh?"

     "Not really." Dean shrugged and pushed his half-empty plate away from him. He was unable to continue eating while he was being questioned by the head of the Novak family. "It's just Dad, actually. Mom died when I was a kid."

     Michael's forced smile faltered and he lowered his fork.

     "I'm sorry to hear that, Dean. I didn't know." He glanced around the table at his siblings, who were both quiet and avoiding his gaze. "We know how hard that is."

     "It's fine now." Dean said confidently. "Dad made sure I got into a good school so I can be successful like him. It's stressful, but I met Cas and life is a lot more fun now. It just sucks that we have to live so far away." He looked at Castiel, who looked like he was holding back a laugh at their inside joke.

     "Well you need to come by more often." Michael smiled. "I'd like to meet your Dad sometime. He sounds like a great guy. What does he do?"

     "Oh, he judges people based on the severity of their sins and sends them to Hell if they don't pass."

     This time Michael did not hold back his choked breath, and Castiel coughed and then laughed loudly, a forced, fake sound.

     "Lawyer! He's a lawyer!" The boy shouted. "Dean, you're so funny. Get it, Michael? Lawyers send people to jail if they're... yeah."

     Dean raised his brow but did not speak.

     Michael Novak chuckled faintly, though Castiel could easily tell that his brother was not amused.

 

   

     "Why the hell didn't you warn me?" Dean demanded the second that Castiel's bedroom door latched shut. The blonde threw himself at the bed and landed face down with his limbs sprawled out in every direction. A wiggly black tail popped back into existence and black horns spiraled out of the sides of his head. The boy's skin lost its fleshy color and when he lifted his head, his eyes were soulless and dark.

     Castiel frowned and leaned his back against the door. In all the years that he had known Dean, he never thought twice about his eating habits or his choice of language. (He was a _monster,_ after all.) Michael had definitely been startled by the boy's behavior at the dinner table. In fact, the man had been so upset by Dean that the rest of supper was eaten in silence. Anna and Charlie were too awkward to speak, Michael was frightened, and Dean was embarrassed. Castiel had never felt so uncomfortable to be sitting at his own dinner table. They hadn't even cut into the apple pie, which was always Dean's favorite.

     As excited as he had been for Dean to finally meet Michael _as a human,_ he was relieved that dinner was over and that Michael wouldn't have to see Dean again for a while, human or not.

     When Castiel didn't answer, Dean buried his face in the pillow once more.

     "Your brother hates me." The demon's voice was muffled into the cushion, but Castiel could still make out what he had said.

     "He doesn't hate you. He was just... _surprised._ "

     Dean leaped to his feet in a swift and sudden movement. "How the hell was I supposed to know how humans eat? You couldn't teach me to use your stupid fucking forks before tonight? Seven years and you couldn't say anything?" he shouted. "How was I supposed to know you guys hold hands and _pray_ before you eat? Who the fuck does that? How was I supposed to know Michael would be offended when I told him what Dad does? I hate lying, Cas. I hate lying and I hate pretending to be who I'm not. If you can accept me for what I am, then why can't they?"

     By the time Dean had finished shouting, Castiel's eyes were watering and he had sunken down against the door with his knees to his chest. His chest heaved in and out with each quiet breath and his hands trembled.

     "Cas... I'm sorry for yelling." he apologized quickly, sinking down to his knees in front of the boy. "I was upset, and I took it out on you. I'm sorry."

     Castiel's anxiety had always been a sensitive issue. The first encounter Dean had with Castiel's panic attacks had been when they were nine years old and Dean slammed his foot into the dresser. The demon had started cursing up a storm and knocked everything off the top of the dresser in anger. The sudden rage had scared the anxious boy and Castiel went into a trembling, whimpering mess in the corner. It took two hours and a pint of ice cream to coax the boy into calming down. Since then, Dean had become an expert in soothing Castiel during his attacks. This may have had something to do with the fact that Dean would often raise his voice when he was angry, and shouting was often a trigger for Castiel's anxiety, especially if it was directed towards him.

     Step one: Apologize. Sincerely.

     Step two: Comfort, but don't touch.

     Castiel hated to be touched when he was upset. This is why the demon sat in front of him, but did not reach out.

     "Hey, it's okay." Dean murmured, making sure that his voice was low and quiet. "You don't have to be scared, Cas. I just got frustrated. I'm not mad at you."

     Step three: Create a distraction.

     "You want Mr. Bear?" Dean prompted. When the raven-haired boy nodded ever so slightly, Dean cracked a smile and hurried over to the bed to grab Castiel's stuffed companion. Mr. Bear was the raggedy old stuffed animal that Cas had since he was an infant. It was old with a worn out blue ribbon around its limp neck. One of its black button eyes was missing, but Cas loved it just the same. It was something he never seemed to be ashamed of having, but Dean never teased him for it either way. Castiel was a fragile person. If he sought comfort from a stuffed animal, then so be it.

     Dean returned with the teddy in his hands and offered it to his friend in an outstretched hand. Castiel took it gratefully and stuffed it against the side of his face, soaking up a stray tear.

     Step four: Talk it out- _calmly._

     Dean sat on the floor a few feet from Castiel's huddled form. His back was against the frame of the bed and his legs were stretched out in front of him. He played with his sleek tail in his hands.

     "I shouldn't have snapped at you, Cas. You didn't do anything wrong. I just wanted to leave a good impression on Michael, and I think I managed to do the exact opposite of that." Dean frowned and ran his claws through his hair stressfully. "I'm a _monster."_ His play on words made Castiel crack a smile. "No, really. It's my job to scare people. It's in my blood... and I love it, I really do, but I never like scaring _you_ , Cas."

     Castiel's expression softened and he dropped the teddy bear to crawl over to Dean. The fifteen year old put his arms around Dean's cold body and pulled him onto his knees, hugging him tightly. Dean stiffened for a moment and then slowly put his hands on Castiel's back, rubbing soothingly. The two of them remained crouched on the floor for some time. The demon didn't mind, but he was confused. The hug had violated step two of the delicate process. Castiel didn't like to be touched during his panic attacks, yet _Castiel_ was the one to initiate the embrace.

     With his chin resting in the crook of Castiel's warm collarbone and the boy's warm breath down the back of his shirt, Dean decided that maybe there was no real process to calming his friend, or that maybe he had just found a shortcut. Or maybe, _just maybe_ , there was something more than comfort in that everlasting embrace. Something that had never been there before.

  
**Art by: Fuchsia_Light**  



	6. Siblings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's hard to be the heir to a demon throne, and Sam is struggling under the stress placed upon him by his father. The demon king doesn't want Dean bringing any friends home. Anna discovers a scary secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I almost didn't get this chapter up in time for my deadline. The good news is, I'm getting hired for a holiday position to make some Christmas money! The bad news is... I'm going to be so busy between classes and working that I'm not going to be be able to update as often as I like.
> 
> Also a side note: I'm writing this story to be based in the eighties, maybe the nineties. Keep that in mind. 
> 
> A huge thank you to everyone who has commented, left kudos, bookmarked, and enjoyed this story so far! I love your support! (No really, it means SO much to me!) I hope you all enjoy this next installment of Under My Bed!  
> -fuchsia light

 

     Sam Winchester was eleven years old and a reflection of his mother: bright hazel eyes, chesnut brown hair, and plump lips perfect for pouting. _Human._ There was nothing about the young boy that would let on about his demonic heritage, besides the fact he lived in the monster realm with his father, the demon king.

     John was very protective over the young Winchester, claiming that he had _potential._ He seemed to favor the boy over his older brother, despite the fact he had disowned Sam as a baby and left him in the hands of a distant relative. It had been many years since then, but Sam was still a mere boy. When John accepted him back with open arms, the round-cheeked child was relieved and excited to return home, as if he had not been offended and hurt by his father's betrayal.

     John Winchester was not the only one pleased with the powers Sam was developing. Monsters lined up for miles to welcome the young prince to the throne. Having a strong heirachy was the way to keeping the realm under control and the Winchester family had a history of power and royalty. Sam's human appearance may have been deceiving, but his powers were exaggerated as being supreme and deadly, just like his father's.

     Unfortunately, such exaggerations meant that young Sam had quite the reputation to grow into.

     The young prince was encouraged to dedicate several hours a day for practicing his abilities. He was too young to start WORMS, but John pushed his son to work on the two basic concepts that a boy of his age could learn: telekenesis and telepathy. This proved to be a struggle for the human, as his powers did not come naturally to him. His father was adherent to the idea of Sam Winchester being recognized as dangerous and skillful, when in reality, Sam was just the opposite.

     Sam didn't like being violent. Any kind of physical pain that he caused another living creature was accidental, and the child was so sensitive that he would _cry_ if he was forced to inflict pain as part of his diligent training. John, determined to condition him out of such behavior, went so far as to lock Sam in his living quarters until he had successfully sacrificed (for lack of a better word) a doe.

     After forty-eight hours and no dead deer, his father gave up and tried another approach, which was the aid of a private teacher. Sam seemed to adapt well to the guidance of his tutor, though he still refused to inflict pain on the doe or anything else with a heartbeat. Still, young Sam was dedicated to his training and studies, not only to please his father, but his brother as well.

     Dean always told him that being well-educated was the way to anything in the world. Prince or not, it was Sam's responsibility to gather as much knowledge as he could to prepare him for his future. Having always looked up to his rebellious older brother, Sam found himself looking to Dean's wisdom and guidance, even when he wasn't around.

     It was well known that Dean spent much of his time in the human world. He came home to attend school and occasionally visit Sam, but much of his time was spent away. John didn't like it, but he didn't do anything to stop it either. The demon king, despite once being married to a human, wasn't fond of the human world. He wouldn't forbid his eldest son from spending so much time with the fleshy, over-emotional, soul-bearing creatures, although he made it very clear to both of his sons that being a _prince_ required constant study and dedication. Dean went to WORMS and passed his classes, so John said nothing more of his behavior for the time being. The only time Sam had heard his father say anything on the subject matter was in an occasional snide comment towards his older son. Things like: _"Collecting souls is probably harder when you're so attached to them"_ or _"Hell doesn't have any hope if the future demon king runs off to play house with his human friends every day"_. Dean handled these comments by ignoring his father or reminding him how much time he spent in WORMS or gathering souls for his job. He was good at holding in his anger, at least until John left the room.

     Sam loved his brother more than anything and he was always supportive of him, even if it meant spending most of his free time with a human. The child lit up whenever the blonde would come to visit, even if it was only for a short time. The scarcity of these visits taught Sam to value the moments he spent with Dean, and he never took their time for granted. Several times he asked his older brother to return home for good, but Dean would always decline politely, reminding him that _"Cas would be completely lost without me."_ Eventually, Sam stopped asking.

     He was too kind to admit that _he_ felt completely lost without Dean.

 

    

     The eternal night of the monster realm was comforting to Sam as he stood on the balcony outside of his room. Far overhead, the blood moon created a dusty orange glow across the sky. There were no stars, but there were smokey dark stormclouds that occasionally rumbled with thunder. They whisped across the sky in congealed clumps and thin sheets that masked the moon and darkened the sky. Sam's sensitive human eyes struggled to see past the blackness in front of him, but as he had learned from birth, the darkness was nothing to be afraid of.

      The child stood with his elbows on top of the railing, which was the only thing separating him from the nine-story drop to the ground below. The wind ruffled his hair lightly and he let out a tiny visible breath into the chilly air.

     "Jeez, Sammy. Anyone would think you were grieving out here." Dean's voice was not startling. The younger Winchester had heard the quiet _whoosh_ of his brother's arrival. The boy couldn't help but to grin as he turned around to face the black-eyed demon. Sam threw himself at Dean and squeezed his tall, lanky form. "I'm happy to see you too, buddy."

     "I didn't know you were visiting tonight." The child smiled, loosening his grip but letting his fingers rest in the folds of fabric on his back.

     "Do you really stand out here and sulk all day?" Dean laughed, patting Sam's back and then leaning over the railing himself. Sam was mature for a child his age, no doubt because of the conditioning their father pushed on him. Dean knew that John pushed Sammy too hard, but it was Sam's decision to stay in the royal castle. He couldn't force him to leave the comfort of their world.

     "I was just thinking." Sam admitted, watching his brother's tail dart from side to side. Sometimes he felt envious that Dean had inherited all of their father's demon looks. Until he had begun to develop his powers, Sam believed he was a mere human, like his mother had been. No one would guess with Dean's apprearance that he was half-human. He was lucky in that way.

     "Well stop thinking and follow me." the demon grinned, taking Sam's arm and leading him back into the room. Sam's living quarters was on the nineth floor of the castle and stretched the length of the east wing. Dean's living quarters were located on the west wing of the same floor, although they were hardly used with his frequent trips to the human world. The younger Winchester followed his brother down the corridors until they had reached Dean's quarters, which were marked with two double wide doors painted in black and gold.

     Upon opening the door, the blonde was greeted with a gruff bark and was knocked onto his back across the marble floor. A dog-like animal the size of a small bear stood on his chest with giant paws pinning his shoulders down. It swiped its slimy tongue across Dean's cheek, leaving a coagulated trail of shiny saliva.

     "Gross! Get off me, you great lump!" He shouted, shoving his hell hound backwards and climbing to his feet. The beast let out a low bark and stood loyaly next to its owner, sniffing his hands and licking them eagerly. It glanced at Sam, gave a snort, and then settled down happily at Dean's feet.

     "You've been feeding him, haven't you?" Dean asked, leaving his hell hound in the middle of his room and going to check his food bowl. There were a few dry bones of various sizes scattered around the dish, but all of the meat had been picked off and licked clean.

     "Yeah, and almost lost my hand for it." Sam rolled his eyes, leaning against the black leather sofa in the middle of the room. "When am _I_ going to get a hell hound?" The boy pursed his lips unhappily and stared at the great beast on the floor. "I want one that actually _likes_ me."

     "I didn't get one until I was old enough to harvest souls." Dean pointed out. "You'll get one soon, if you keep studying." The demon opened a stainless steel cabinet and revealed a large freezer, stacked high with frosty beverages and individually packaged slabs of raw meat. He stuck his hand in and pulled out a glass bottle filled with a creamy white liquid. "Want some dragon milk?" he offered, holding it out to his brother. Sam declined the offer with a shake of his head, and Dean cracked the bottle open for himself instead. "I wish you could try cow's milk. It's much better." Dean made a face after swallowing a few gulps. His taste had adjusted to human food and the delicacies of the monster realm no longer pleased him.

     "What's a cow?" Sam wondered.

     "A big lumpy creature that wanders around and eats grass all day. Humans drink their milk. They're happy most of the time, so their milk tastes sweeter. It's not bitter, like this." He raised his bottle with a snort.

     Sam liked hearing Dean talk about the human world. He always seemed so cheerful when he went off on tangents about humans and their delicious food and their strange animals. Sam never wanted to interrupt him in fear that it would upset Dean into thinking that he didn't care, which wasn't true. Learning about the human world from Dean's perspective was fascinating.

     Sam sat on the couch and brought his legs up. Unlike Dean, who was able to walk around with his pantlegs pushed up to his calves and a short-sleeved tee, Sam's human skin was sensitive to the cold temperatures of the monster realm. He was forced to wear layers of clothing that would substitute for a monster's cold blood, which kept them comfortable in the frigid temperatures.

     The young prince was wearing a white tunic with a plaid overshirt, as well as a heavy jacket made of gargoyle skin and werewolf fur. It was enough to keep him warm, but he still found himself shivering in the colder wings of the castle.

     Dean plopped down on the couch beside his brother and took another swig of his dragon milk. His hell hound got up and scrambled over with loud paws, then settled contently at Dean's feet once again with a throaty snort from its flat nose.

     "I invited Cas to dinner last night."

     Sam looked at him and blinked several times in surprise. He had never expected that Dean's human friend would agree to visit the monster realm.

     "Isn't it a little dangerous for a human to be here?" he piped.

     "You're a human, idiot." Dean snapped with jest in his voice. "You seem to manage just fine."

     "I'm part demon-" Sam huffed irritably. "-and a prince."

     "Yeah, yeah. Well, Cas is my best friend. I wanted him to meet you and Dad. Is that too much to ask?" The blonde finished the contents of his bottle and tossed it lazily across the room. It hit the elegant rug and his hell hound jumped to its paws and ran to fetch it. "He's been my best friend for _years,_ Sam. You'll like him."

     "I will, but... what about Dad? Have you told him?" Sam had a hard time believing that their father would agree to a human entering the monster realm, even if it _was_ Dean's best friend.

     "Not yet." Dean snorted, taking the bottle from the dog's mouth and throwing it again. This time it hit the wall and broke into several sharp pieces. The hell hound laid down in front of the shattered glass and started to chew on the shards like a dog knawing a bone, paying no attention to the oozing black blood from its gums.

     "Dad's been pretty grouchy lately." Sam admitted. "You might want to wait to ask him."

     "Ask me what?"

     Both boys spun around to face John Winchester. The man was standing in the entryway of Dean's living quarters, tapping his fingers against the door frame as if he had been standing there the entire time. He was tall and gruff, with dark hair and a neatly trimmed beard. His eyes were wrinkled with age and knowledge, and his skin was pale and ghostly. The large black ram horns on his head curled twice around before coming to a sharp point. Like Dean, his eyes were crystal bulbs of beady blackness. His hands were gloved in metal armor that reinforced the claws on his fingertips. It was clear to see where Dean had gotten his looks.

     "Hey, Dad." Dean said stiffly, standing up straight and giving the king a small bow.

     "Dean." he acknowledged with a simple nod of his head. "What brings you here?"

     "I _live_ here." the blonde remarked with a hint of annoyance in his voice. John let out a gruff noise but stared at his son, waiting for him to continue. "Er, I invited Cas to dinner this week." he explained. "Is that alright?" It felt weird to be asking his father for permission to do anything- in the human world, he did whatever he wanted. Here, in the monster realm, his father was in charge.

     The demon king stared at his older son with daggers in his eyes.

     "No."

     Dean's jaw tightened and his tail stopped swaying. Black eyes glared at each other.

     "Why not?" he demanded, the respect draining from his tone.

     "I'm your father, Dean. I said no. You're not bringing your human here. It's far too dangerous." John was using human fragility as an excuse, but Dean knew better than to believe his father was concerned about Castiel's safety.

     "Bullshit!" Dean shouted angrily. "You and I both know that he'd be just fine!"

     "You watch your goddamn mouth, boy." John growled, and his jaw tensed in a mirror movement of Dean's. "I said no, and that's _final._ " The demon king looked at the younger prince and added, "Sam, I want you to return to your training now. You've made your tutor wait long enough." John Winchester turned and swiftly exited the room, leaving Sam and Dean in a stunned silence.

     "He came all the way up here just to piss me off." Dean said in disbelief, kicking his shoe into the side of the sofa.

     "No, I think he came up here to tell me to go to class. You just happened to be here too. I told you he was grouchy." Sam mumbled. The older Winchester sunk down onto the couch beside his brother.

     "What am I going to tell Cas?" Dean sighed loudly, rubbing his eyelids with the pads of his fingers. "Pfft, who am I kidding? He didn't want to come here anyway. It's probably better off that he doesn't."

     Sam felt sympathetic for Dean. John didn't like him much because he didn't care about taking over the demon throne or being a respectable prince. Sam was also aware that his father saw Dean as a younger version of himself: lovestruck with humanity. It was possible that John Winchester's disapproval of his son stemmed from the fear that he would love and lose, just like he did.

     The young prince sucked in a breath of air and let it out slowly. Whenever he started to think about his mother, he was overwhelmed with guilt and grief. _She died because of me,_ he reminded himself solemnly. _If I hadn't been born, Dean would have stayed here with Mom and Dad and everything would have been great._ It was not the first time he had come to this realization. In fact, it haunted his thoughts and often left him in melancholy.

     "I hate this place." Dean grumbled. Sam turned his head, returning to the present.

     "Everyone knows that, Dean. But one day you're gonna be king."

     "Don't remind me." The demon groaned. "I didn't sign up for that. Hell, you know more about ruling a kingdom than I do." He reached over and ruffled Sam's hair, laughing when it stuck out in several directions. "Just wait until you start gathering souls. You'll love it, Sammy. It'll make you feel like a real demon." Sam lightened up at his words and leaned against his brother's arm.

     "You're still gonna take me out for my first time, right?" he asked with anticipation in his voice. "As soon as I turn thirteen?"

     "The lucky one-three. You bet." Dean smirked, standing up and stretching his arms high above his head. "Speaking of which, I've got work to do. Alastair is going to have my ass if I don't get him his souls by tonight. Cas wants me to go to some drive-in with him and I've got to be back before then."

     Sam tried not to seem disappointed to hear that his brother was leaving so soon, but he knew better than to expect more than a few minutes of quality time before Dean was taking off again for some reason or another. He followed Dean out of his bedroom, closing the door behind him and feeling the _thud_ of the wood as Dean's hell hound slammed itself up against it.

     "You'll come back soon, right?" Sam asked hopefully. His brother stopped mid-pace, spinning around on his heels to face him. He gave a dramatic thumbs up.

     "Have faith, Sammy. I'll be back before you know it. Take care of Fido, will you?"

     And before Sam could nod his head, Dean was gone with a snap of his thin, pale fingers.

 

 

     "The good news is, my Dad said you can't come over for dinner." Dean said as he appeared in the bathroom behind an unexpecting Castiel. The brunette choked on the mouthwash he was gargling and the minty liquid splattered out of his mouth and across the mirror.

     "You've got to stop doing that!" he shouted, wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeve and grabbing a nearby towel. Dean let his friend clean the mess he caused while he leaned against the wall.

     "The bad news is that I finished work early and I've got nothing to do for the rest of the day...so you're going to have to occupy my attention for a little longer than expected." the demon continued, poking Castiel's side with the spine of his tail. "Not a problem, right?"

     Castiel rolled his aquamarine eyes and tossed the listerine-scented towel at Dean's chest.

     "That doesn't sound like good news. I thought you _wanted_ me to come for dinner." he said, running a comb through his hair to smooth the spikes and curls that were arising.

     "Yeah, well, my old man doesn't like company." the blonde muttered. "Do you still want to go to that drive-in movie tonight?" Castiel didn't waste the energy to look disappointed. He was relieved that Dean's father had canceled their dinner plans in the monster world.

     "If Anna will drive us." Castiel turned around to face Dean instead of talking to his reflection. "But I don't really have any money, either."

     "Not a problem." Dean dug into his back pocket and pulled out a leather wallet. Inside the sleeve there was a hearty mound of green bills folded into a neat stack. Castiel's jaw dropped and he reached out to examine the amount.

     " _Dean!_ Where did you get all of this?" he gasped, running his fingers through the stack like those millionaires did on the television programs. He looked up at the demon with wide eyes. "You didn't steal it, did you?" Dean laughed loudly at his accusition and shook his head.

     "Oh, Cas. You flatter me. _I_ didn't steal it. I asked my boss to pay me in human cash instead of monster money. Maybe _he_ stole it, but it's mine now. I earned it." The blonde straightened his back and stuck out his chest proudly with his accomplishment. "I've got no use for monster currency when I spend most of the time here. Now that I know how to look like a human, I'll need money to do fun things with you." The demon took the wallet back from Castiel and returned it to his back pocket. Castiel couldn't argue. He was proud of Dean for earning the money in his own way. It was a big step from his thieving habits of the past.

     He was still smiling as he grabbed a folded sweater off the counter and slipped it over his head. The teenager looked nicer than usual, wearing khaki pants and an argyle sweater over a denim long-sleeved shirt. His bad eyesight forced him to wear thick-rimmed pair of glasses that Dean secretly liked on the brunette. It made him look nerdy and cute.

     "What are you dressing up for?" Dean asked with heightened brows, giving Castiel a quick look-over.

     "I've got a job interview." Castiel cleared his throat, straightening the wrinkles in his sweater and making sure he looked presentable. "The bookstore down the street is hiring part time and I thought it would be a smart way to spend my evenings after school."

     Dean pretended to gag.

     "A _job?_ " he echoed, pretending to be offended. "Why would you want a job when you could spend your evenings with me?" His tail poked at Castiel's ribs again.

     "Maybe so my wallet can be as fat as yours." Castiel chuckled, moving past Dean and heading down the hall to his bedroom. " _You_ have a job, and I still see you all the time."

     "I collect souls when you're in school." Dean argued lightly. "You're taking away our bonding time."

     "The world is a cruel place." Castiel rolled his eyes, leaning against his desk to slip into his brown loafers.

     Dean frowned and leaned against the door defeatedly.

     "What do you need money for, anyway? You're just a kid."

     "I'm _fifteen,_ Dean. There's a hundred things I could use money for. A _car_ , for one." Castiel nudged past the demon and walked down the stairs with the blonde following him close behind.

     "You don't need a car. I could take you anywhere you needed to go." he offered slyly.

     "Thanks, but I don't want to get motion sickness from traveling through the dimensions of time." Castiel picked up an apple (after checking it carefully for bruises) and headed for the front door. "Look, I'm sorry that I've got to leave, but I told them I'd be there right after school." He paused at the door and faced his onyx-eyed friend. "I'll be back in time for the drive-in, if Anna will take us."

     Dean followed Castiel out the front door and watched him mount his bicycle, which had been waiting for him by the porch.

     "Cas!" Dean called with annoyance.

     "I'll be back soon! Wish me luck!" the boy called over his shoulder, pedaling down the driveway and down the street. He was out of sight within seconds, leaving the demon to lean casually against the railing. Dean sighed heavily and slumped down to sit on the top step. His tail slowed to a stop beside him and he sat, with nothing better to do, until the sun had gone down over the trees.

     He spent the time practicing his human-transformation skills. If he was going to the drive-in, he would have to be able to keep his human form for at least a few hours. Dean sat on the porch and flicked his eyes up and down, up and down. Each time he looked up, his eyes were black. Each time he looked down, his eyes were green. He practiced changing his teeth and making his tail disappear. When he got bored, he decided to go inside.

     Knowing Michael would return soon, Dean retreated to Castiel's room and sunk into his desk chair. There was an application for "Books A Ton" with Castiel's full name written in cursive lettering. _Castiel James Novak._ Dean smiled and gazed over the application. If they were smart, they would hire him. A bookstore seemed like the perfect place for timid Castiel to work, and he had an immense knowledge of books that would make him a good employee.

      Dean returned the application to the desk and found himself suddenly disappointed. If Castiel was getting a job, Dean wouldn't be able to see him for the majority of the day. Their friendship would surely suffer if they saw each other significantly less, and worst of all, Dean would be forced to spend more time in the monster realm.

     Scrunching up his nose, the demon lifted his legs and pushed the swivel chair away from the desk. It came to a stop in the center of the bedroom and he started to propel himself in a circle, spinning the chair several times and changing his form each time he spun past the window. Eventually he stuck his feet out and let the chair spin slower before coming to a stop. When he looked up, his cold blood turned to ice.

     Standing in the doorway, staring at him with horror and disbelief, was Anna Novak. The red-head's eyes flickered from the moving tail to the oblivion black eyes. Her mouth opened, but shock kept her from getting any syllables out.

     Dean didn't dare speak. His tail whacked uneasily against the arm of the swivel chair. He was basically flaunting his appearance to someone who, before now, had not been aware of his monster heredity. It was hard to make up any kind of excuse that would make sense to the situation he had suddenly found himself in. She had clearly seen him change from human to demon before her eyes. He should have been more cautious.

     "Hey, Anna." he finally grinned, flashing a smile full of razor sharp teeth. He hopped to his feet and the girl took an immediate step backwards.

     "What are you doing here?" she stuttered out, staring down at the slithery demon tail as it flicked from side to side.

     "Waiting for Cas to get back from his interview." he said cooly. Anna continued to stare uneasily at him. "What's the matter?" he snickered playfully. "Monster got your tongue?"

     "What are you?" she whispered, holding onto the doorframe with shaky fingers. "You're not... you're not normal, are you?"

     "That depends on your definition of normal." Dean took a step closer to Castiel's older sister and extended his clawed hand. "I've known you for years, Anna. If I was going to hurt you, I would have done it by now."

     Anna whipped around and went running for her bedroom. Her door slammed shut and he heard it _click_ as she locked the door. Just for fun, the demon wandered over to the door and leaned his shoulder against it nonchalantly. He could hear her uneven breathing on the other side of the door.

     "Come on, Anna." Dean called. "Don't be scared. I'm not going to hurt you." He wasn't used to this kind of communication with humans- everything came so naturally with Castiel. He could be himself without having to worry about scaring Cas or reassuring him that he wasn't in any danger. Whenever he saw anyone else it was under grim circumstances: making deals with desperate people and stealing their souls for Hell.

     "Answer me! What are you?" Anna shouted in a panicked voice. "I saw you, Dean! You changed right in front of me!"

     "What does it matter?" Dean snorted. "I took you trick-or-treating, Anna. I ate dinner with your family. I've been friends with Cas for _years._ I'm not going to hurt you, I promise." Dean sighed heavily but before he could say more, Anna's tiny voice sounded again.

     "Does Castiel know?"

     "Yes. He's known since the day we met. Now would you stop making such a big deal out of this? Or at least shut up so I can tell you that I'm a fucking demon."

     Silence.

     "What's going on?" Castiel's voice rang out behind him, surprising the demon and whipping around to face him. At the very same moment, Anna's bedroom door flung open and the girl barged out swinging around a Louisville Slugger in a mad havoc. The bat, instead of colliding with its intended target, took a thunderous hit to Castiel's face.

     The brunette was flung into the wall and yowled in pain. His glasses hit the wall and one of the lenses shattered before they fell to the ground. His hands shot up to cover his nose, which was leaking blood like a faucet between his fingers. Dean ran to his side, putting an arm around his shoulder and trying to turn him around.

     "Cas! Are you okay?" His eyes of coal were wide and startled. Anna squealed and dropped her weapon immediately.

     "Oh my God!" she cried, running to Castiel and putting her hand on his arm. "Oh my God, Cas! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to!"

     Castiel muffled something beneath his hand while he pinched his nose. His words were lost in a heavy flow of crimson fluid.

     "What was that?" Dean asked with a furrowed brow.

     "I think my nose is broken!" Castiel shouted again, brushing the concerned limbs away from himself and going to the bathroom.

     Dean turned to face Anna and threw his arms in the air.

     "Look what you did!" he accused her.

     "I was aiming for _you!_ " Anna screeched back, giving him a shove in the chest and hurrying down the hall after her brother. Dean recovered quickly and followed her.

     "Cas, buddy." The blonde called hesitantly after the boy had slammed the bathroom door shut. "Are you okay in there?" There was no answer, but he could hear the faucet turn on and the toilet paper roll spinning. Dean pursed his lips thoughtfully and crossed his arms. His tail flicked irritably. "I guess we're not going to that movie tonight, huh?"

     Anna hit him again, this time for being plain rude.

     "Castiel, do you need to go to the hospital?" she asked kindly through the closed door. "Should I call Michael?"

     "No!" Castiel shouted. "I'm okay, Anna. Just... don't kill Dean, okay? He's my best friend."

     Anna looked concerned and shot a glance behind her at the pale young man. She looked like she was deciding whether to obey her brother's wishes or not. It was hard, considering the horned teenager looked so intimidating. All of those Halloweens, she believed that he was just wearing an elaborate costume. Who would have thought that her little brother's best friend was a _real_ monster?

     "Cas... are you sure you can trust him? He said he was a... a..."

     "A demon." Dean sang, snapping his fingers and appearing much closer to Anna. She jumped and covered her mouth to keep from shouting, but the demon only laughed. "Come on. Have I ever been anything but nice to you?" Anna rubbed her elbow, feeling uncomfortable standing next to Dean after realizing his teeth were real.

     "No, but-"

     "But nothing. I'm a good guy." he insisted. "Cas can accept what I am, so why can't you?"

     Anna got quiet and looked at the ground. She didn't speak for a long moment and the faucet in the bathroom shut off. Castiel opened the door and revealed himself to his frightened sister and his monster friend. The front of his argyle sweater was stained red and he was holding a wet towel to his face.

     "You can trust him." Castiel's usual voice was disturbed by the pressure on his nasal cavities. The brunette looked at his sister and used his free hand to squeeze her shoulder. "He's _good._ "

     Finally, Anna let out a tiny sigh.

     "I don't like it... but alright." she mumbled. Dean's shoulders seemed to relax as well.

     "Great. Now that we're all friends again..." Castiel slowly removed the towel from his face. His nose was unusually crooked and the right half of his face was turning several shades of blue. Anna gasped and Dean smacked a hand over his mouth. Despite feeling concerned and sympathetic for his friend, it was humorous to see his nose broken so badly. "Can you please take me to the hospital?" he finished, pressing the towel to his nose again.

     Anna ran to get her keys, only glancing up at Dean as she hurried past him. The demon leaned against the wall and curled his tail around his hip.

     "That could have gone worse." he smiled. Castiel gave him a stern stare and sunk down against the wall. "But hey, did you get the job?" Dean quickly added, crouching down next to the wounded teenager.

     Castiel glanced up into Dean's comforting black eyes. From behind the edge of the towel, the demon could see his mouth turn upwards into a smile. He nodded his head and Dean clapped his hands together. Although he was secretly disappointed that he would be seeing much less of his friend, he was proud of Cas.

     "Great! Congratulations!" He jumped to his feet again, hopping up and down several times. "How are we going to celebrate?"

     "We can celebrate by setting my nose back." Castiel suggested with a slight shake of laughter, rising to his feet again. "Come on, let's go. You're coming too." He grabbed Dean's sleeve with his free hand and started dragging him down the stairs. Anna's blue Jetta rumbled to a start outside and the two boys grabbed their shoes and hurried out the door.

     "What are we going to tell the doctor?" Anna asked as she opened the passenger door for her brother. Dean climbed into the back seat, flicking his eyes back to green and getting rid of his demon features. When the red-head glanced in her rearview mirror, she had to do a double take.

     "I'll tell the doctor that my sister thought I was a burglar and she tried to defend herself." Castiel said, holding the towel tightly to his face to stop any of the excess blood from dripping down his chin. "I just hope this doesn't affect my ability to get the job at the bookstore."

     "Oh, it's just a bit of bruising." Dean commented with a roll of his eyes. "The doc will put your nose back just like it was."

     "Congratulations on getting the job." Anna smiled, backing out of the driveway and driving down the road. "We should celebrate. Ice cream after you get your face fixed?" She offered with a hopeful grin. "My treat for accidentally smashing your nose."

      "That'd be great." Castiel smiled, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the head rest.

      "Er... do demons like ice cream?" Anna added hesitantly, glancing into the rearview mirror at the emerald eyes looking back at her.

     "Dean loves ice cream." Castiel confirmed.

     "Frozen cow milk!" the demon called from the back seat. "I wonder if frozen dragon milk would taste the same..."

     Anna gripped the steering wheel tighter and focused on the road in front of her. With her brother sitting in the passenger seat with a broken nose and an alleged demon in the back, she could only think one thing:

     _Charlie's never going to believe this!_

 

  
**Art by: Fuchsia_Light**  



	7. The Absent Prince

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get shaky when Cas asks his demon friend for some time apart. Feeling betrayed, Dean sets off to find some new friends of his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FRIENDS! I'm sorry I'm hella late on updating... I PROMISE I haven't stopped working on this fic! I've just been incredibly busy since I started this job and have had hardly any time to work on it! Thanks to everyone who has enjoyed so far! I'm hoping it won't take as long to get the next chapter up. As of now, there's not an updating schedule, but I promise I will update as soon as possible!
> 
> As always, let me know what you think! If you feel so inclined to do so, please submit fanart! :D I love you guys! This chapter is an odd one, but I promise, there is some real destiel coming soon!

     Castiel's nose was popped back into place by a skilled professional and the swelling went down after a few days. His eye was still bruised, but more or less he had returned to his normal routine, including his new part-time job.

     Books-A-Ton was a quaint little book shop. It was the kind of place that middle-aged women came to sip coffee and read romance novels to forget about their simmering relationships. The owner of the book store was a kind lady named Jody Mills who was very sweet but also stern when she needed to be. The middle-aged woman reminded Castiel of a mother who dedicated all of her time to the good of others. He once asked her if she had any children, but she frowned and sent him off to organize the history books.

     Castiel enjoyed his job much more than going to school. If ever Michael asked him how his day was, he only had good things to say about work and negative things to say about his classes. He was still doing well grade-wise, but the outcast feeling that he felt in the hallways of Pontiac High never seemed to fade, even after attending for a few months. Castiel didn't like to admit it, but he was still picked on by the upperclassmen and made the target of many pranks. He insisted that he was fine, when anyone bothered to ask.

     As he predicted, Dean was seeing much less of his best friend. By the time Castiel got home from work, he was rushing to eat dinner, do his homework, and get a decent amount of sleep. There was hardly any time to spend with each other. Their routine of reading comic books before bed disappeared instantly, as well as the habits of watching television or movies together. Dean tried to kindle Castiel's interest by popping over to the nearest video rental store and borrowing his favorite movie, but the teenager insisted that homework was more important.

     "Homework is more important, work is more important... is there anything that's _not_ more important than our friendship?" Dean demanded one day, laying across the queen-sized bed and throwing his feet up in the air.

     "That's not fair." The brunette mumbled, leaning his cheek against the pages of his open textbook. There was a stack of three more books waiting for him on the floor at his feet. He let out a long sigh and his eyelids fluttered shut.

     "Look at you." The demon rolled onto his stomach. "You're exhausted, Cas. When is the last time you get a decent night of sleep?" Castiel didn't answer. His mouth was hanging open slightly and his eyes were still resting shut. "Cas!" he barked. The boy gave a jerk, shooting back up into a sitting position with bloodshot eyes. "You're gonna make yourself sick." he scolded. The brunette picked up his pencil again and began to lazily copy text into his notebook, and after a moment he began to drop his head again. "I know what you need..." Dean continued, climbing off the bed and leaning over his friend's slumped shoulder. "... A pick me up! Hey, let's go to the diner or something!" He nudged him slightly. "I'll buy you dinner."

     "I've got to finish these assignments." Castiel sighed heavily. His response irritated Dean and he suddenly grabbed Castiel's hood, pulling it back and forcing him to sit up.

     "Let me buy you dinner!" Dean snapped. Finally, the teenager looked straight at him and let his shoulders relax slightly. He nodded slowly.

     "Alright, fine." Castiel got up begrudgingly and started looking for something else to wear (because he certainly was not going to wear his work uniform). "Why do you have to be so persistent?" he mumbled, almost to himself instead of the demon behind him.

     "Because I care about you." Dean answered, scratching the back of his head. He replaced his black eyes with green ones and took the appearance of a human. By this point, he had gotten quite good at transforming between human and demon and had managed to hold onto his human form for a maximum of eight hours now. It took effort, but he was slowly becoming used to being (or at least _looking_ ) human. "I'm starving, Cas. Let's go."

     "Hold your horses." Castiel was attempting to gather his books together and folding the pages that he had ended on. "Are we going to walk all the way to the diner? It's cold."

     Dean seemed to appear behind his friend with his warmest jacket in hand. He held it out in front of him, motioning for Castiel to slip his arms through the sleeves.

     "Humans are so sensitive. You're the one who won't teleport with me." The blonde grabbed Castiel's shoulders and spun him back around so he could zip up the boy's jacket. "I can't imagine being warm-blooded. It's such a pain in the ass to keep you warm." He patted the jacket and pulled the hood up over Castiel's twisty curls. "We could always have Anna drive us."

     Since Anna's discovery about Dean and his real form, the red-head had been fascinated with learning every detail of his abilities and the world he came from. Whenever she came home she would routinely poke her head into Castiel's room to see if Dean was home. If he was, she would ask him some question that she came up with during the day like how they managed to milk a dragon or what hell hounds were for. She even went so far as to pester Castiel for his knowledge, although she was disappointed to hear that he did not know much more than she did.

     "I don't want to go with her." Castiel grumbled, pulling a scarf around his neck and making sure it was snug for the winter air outside before replacing his hood again. "She'd never shut up about you."

     "Maybe she likes me." Dean snickered.

     "Oh, yeah. Maybe if you were a woman." The blue-eyed teen grabbed his wallet and left his bedroom. "We can't stay out too late, okay? I've got more work to do."

     "Yeah, yeah. You're a broken record, Cas." The human-like Dean followed Castiel down the stairs and outside. The temperature had dropped a few degrees since that morning and Castiel found himself shivering. "You'll feel better when you're eating a hot burger." Dean insisted, crossing his arms behind his head as he walked. The sun was starting to go down and the streets were only disturbed by a few passing cars. The two boys shuffled down the sidewalk with cold breaths visible from their mouths. Dean enjoyed this because it reminded him of his own world, where the air was always brisk and chilly.

     "How have your classes been?" Castiel finally asked after walking in silence for several minutes. Dean perked up at the question, pleased that his friend was the one initiating a conversation.

     "Good. I learned how to transfigure a grizzlycorn into a wine glass." The demon bragged, skimming over the fact Castiel had no idea what a _grizzlycorn_ was. "I think I'm going to practice on my hell hound tonight. That sorry sap doesn't care what I do to him as long as I feed him."

     Castiel nodded slightly, letting the words breeze past him with an apathetic frown. When Dean looked over at him, he sucked in a breath of air and stopped walking.

     "Okay. That's it." he snapped, crossing his arms. "I'm not moving another _inch_ until you tell me what the hell is up with you."

     Surprised, Castiel turned around and angled his head.

     "What?"

     "You've been acting weird all week." Dean grumbled. "You don't want to hang out with me anymore and all you care about is your stupid schoolwork and your stupid job."

     "That's what growing up means, Dean." Castiel sighed, lifting a hand to run his fingers through his hair. "I don't have time for kid stuff anymore."

     "You're _fifteen_!" The demon shouted, his fingers curling into fists. "Are you calling me a kid because I want to hang out like we used to?"

     "It's not that." Castiel argued, stuffing his hands into his pockets now and looking down to his feet. A light blush came across his cheeks, barely visible over the shadows that his hair cast across his face. "Dean, we've spent almost every day with each other since we were eight years old. You sleep in my bed practically every night. Maybe it's time... you know. Maybe it's time we take some time apart."

     Dean's green eyes flickered back to black, soulless orbs. His tail appeared behind him, swatting back and forth angrily and his teeth clashed against each other as they sharpened. The demon's brow furrowed and he had to retract his claws to keep them from digging into his own flesh.

     "You want me to leave?" Dean demanded in a throaty growl.

     "Not forever." Castiel murmured. "Just for a few days, or something. I've got to focus on my schoolwork and the bookstore. You should focus on your work too." Although Castiel meant well, the only thing Dean was gathering from his proposition was that he didn't want Dean around anymore.

     The demon let out a furious snarl and whipped around. His tail _thwacked_ against the side of Castiel's thigh like a whip.

     "Sorry for all of the _distractions_ I cause you! It must be such an _inconvenience_ to deal with my bullshit all the time!" Dean snarled. "Don't worry, I'll let myself out." The demon snapped his fingers and vanished into thin air, leaving Castiel to stand on his own in the cold windy street. The boy frowned and let his shoulders slump sadly. Knowing that his best friend was angry at him was bad enough, but knowing that a demon was angry at him was even more unsettling.

  

 

     "Okay, Fido. Let's get this over with." Sam breathed deeply, standing in the middle of his brother's living quarters. The hell hound crouched impatiently on the other side of the room, jaws parted in a snarl and saliva dripping down to the marble floor. It snorted loudly and mucus blew from its nostrils.

     The younger Winchester removed a chunk of raw meat from the tray he was holding and leaned down to place it in the dish on the floor. Another blob of mucus flew airborne from the beast's nose. Sam repeated the process until the dish was overflowing with fatty sabertooth walrus meat. Dean's hell hound slowly rose to its massive paws, padding towards the dish with hesitation.

     "Wait." Sam demanded in the firmest tone he could manage. The beast paused, glaring up at the young boy that stood between itself and dinner. With great caution, Sam extended a hand to the hell hound. "Easy, boy." Trying not to let his fingers shake too much, he stared at the hound until his hand was resting gently on top of its head. The hell hound growled lowly, but did not budge. Sam gave its head a pat and then stood up, dodging sideways just in time for the hound to lunge at the food dish. He sighed loudly.

     "It's progress." he smiled, watching the beast shove its snout into the fresh meat.

     Slurping and smacking from the hell hound's jaws drowned out the sound of Dean Winchester's sudden appearance in the room.

     "I can't believe him!"

     Sam spun around, knocking his elbow into the table. It wasn't often that Dean managed to sneak up on him. His brother looked irritated and clearly upset, immediately beginning to pace the room and cursing in a foreign monster tongue.

     "What happened?" Sam asked, grabbing the sleeve of Dean's jacket to keep him from storming past him again.

     "He kicked me out! Can you believe that?"

     "Who? Castiel?"

     "Who _else?_ " Dean growled. He yanked his sleeve away and returned to pacing the floor, nearly barreling his foot into the side of the hell hound. "He's _sick_ of me."

     "I'm sure that's not true." Sam stood in the center of the room, watching the demon circle around him furiously. "Are you sure you're not overreacting a little bit?"

     " _Overreacting?"_ Dean's voice dropped into a dangerously low tone. "My _best friend_ threw me out of his life, but _I'm_ overreacting?" Sam didn't answer because he realized arguing with his brother was futile at this point.

     Finally, the demon sunk into the black leather couch and and crossed one leg across the other. He let his head drop against the back of the couch, groaning.

     "What am I going to do, Sam? I can't stay _here_ all the time."

     "What were his exact words?" The young Winchester asked, sitting beside him on the sofa and placing a hand gently on Dean's tense shoulder.

     "He said... he wanted _time apart._ " Dean grumbled. Sam rolled his eyes.

     "Oh come on, Dean. You're being more dramatic than the traveling theatre company." Sam leaned back. "He's a human. They have more responsibilities than we do."

     "We're the heirs to the royal throne." Dean pointed out. "I'm the first in line, and I still have time for him."

     "He's a _human,_ Dean." Sam repeated. "You can't expect him to be perfect. And to be fair, you don't really care about your responsibilities anyway."

     At this point, the hell hound finished devouring his dinner and left the empty dish. A trail of saliva followed it to Dean's feet, where the beast settled down and licked its chops in satisfaction. The blonde bent forward to scratch its head.

     "What am I supposed to do?" he sighed defeatedly. "If I'm stuck here, Dad will start hounding me to learn _duties_ or something."

     "Believe it or not, this place isn't that bad." Sam frowned, offended that Dean would consider staying with him to be so unpleasant. "You and I could hang out, maybe."

     "Oh, right. When you're not being rushed off to stuff your nose in a book." The demon mumbled under his breath. "You're just as bad as he is, with those stupid books."

     Sam stood up and headed for the black and gold archway that lead out of Dean's quarters. He had tried not to be upset, but Dean's apathy towards his brother was unbelievable.

     "All you care about is Castiel and the human world." he finally stated as he reached the doorway. "You're being really ignorant, Dean. You're supposed to be the next king and you couldn't care less about this place."

     Dean lifted his head in acknowledgement, but he was too late. His little brother disappeared into the shadows of the hallway.

 

 

     For the remainder of the evening, Dean sulked in his bedroom. He scratched at the horns on his head and lay on his bed, counting and recounting the candles in his chandelier to pass the time. The king size mattress felt unnaturally large compared to Castiel's queen, and there was far too much room for him to lay without coming in contact with the comfort of human warmth. The demon made up for this by rolling back and forth, stretching out his arms and legs to cover as much of the bed as possible.

     Sam hadn't come back to visit him and he assumed that by now, the young prince had gone to sleep. His hell hound slept soundly at the very end of his bed, warming his feet beneath the covers and being his only company in the lonesome castle. Dean blocked out the sound of the beast's thunderous snoring.

     “Stupid Cas…” Dean grunted, rolling onto his side. “I don’t need him. I have friends.” This was only half true. The only friends that Dean had managed to make in his home world were distant and more acquaintances than anything. Castiel was right. He spent all of his time in the human world, and trying to make friends of his own species had never crossed his mind.

     The first candidate in his head was an older vampire named Benny. Benny had knowledge of many years more than Dean, but he was still quite young in vampire years, just as Dean was still young in demon years. The two had been close as children but then since drifted away.

     Forcing himself off the bed, Dean decided that visiting Benny wouldn’t be such a bad idea. It was the middle of the night and the vampire would surely be awake.

     Making sure that his hell hound stayed put on his bed, Dean snapped himself to Benny’s residence, a surprisingly peaceful cottage in the woodlands of the monster world. The demon had only been there once before, but once was enough to remember the location.

     The blonde hesitated before knocking. He had spent so much of his life socializing with humans that he almost forgot monster customs. Monsters didn’t knock.

     Dean didn’t have to think too hard about it because before he could lower his curled knuckles, the wooden door swung open and the vampire leaned casually in the doorway.

     “I didn’t expect to see you here, brother. It’s been a long time.” He smiled and extended a hand into his cottage, motioning for Dean to enter. “Come on in.”

     “Hey, thanks.” Dean scratched his head and stepped inside, glancing around the small and humble abode.

     “What brings you here?” Benny asked with a raised brow, closing the door behind Dean and leaning against the wall. “You’re troubled.”

     “No, I’m not.” Dean lied. The vampire did not speak but watched the blonde with careful eyes. "Alright, fine." He fell onto Benny's couch dramatically, letting his limbs hang off the sides. "I'm fighting with Cas." It wasn't a lie, considering he had shouted at him before storming out in one of his more dramatic exits. Benny's expression softened and he let out a gruff laugh.

     "I thought that might be it. Tea?"

     The vampire crossed the one room cottage to a small kitchen setup and took a steaming kettle off of the open flame burner. He carefully poured the herbal tea into two chipped teacups, handing one to Dean and keeping the other for himself. Dean held the cup and glared into its contents; the warmth it spread to his hands reminded him of Castiel even more.

     "Brother." Benny began, despite the fact Dean was not related to him in any way. He took the seat across from Dean in an old large armchair. "Sometimes spending too much time with the same person is not such a good thing. You can't let your life revolve around someone else's."

     "He's my best friend! We've _always_ done everything together." His mouth fell into a solemn frown and his black eyes glistened. "I don't understand why he doesn't want me around all of a sudden. It's not like he has any other friends."

     The vampire placed his teacup on the little table between them with a tiny _chink._

     "It sounds like you need something to occupy your mind, brother." Benny smiled, flashing his pointed teeth that were just a little more monsterous than Dean's. Dean lifted his head.

     "Huh?"

     Benny reached over and gave Dean a firm pat on the back.

     "I've got just the thing. It's guaranteed to cheer you up." The vampire stood up, adjusting the elegant black cloak around his neck and looking out the broken glass windowpane. Illuminated in the eternal moonlight outside was a small herd of bullcocks- large, bulky, grazing beasts with the body of a bull and the head and legs of a rooster. The only dangerous part about them were the massive horns on their heads and their sharp talons. They were rather lazy creatures that kept to themselves, except when disturbed or taunted.

     "Bullcock tipping?" Dean straightened up and his tail began to wag curiously. Benny nodded his head.

     "You ever tried it?" the vampire inquired. Dean shook his head quickly, feeling adrenaline and excitement pulse through his veins. Growing up with Castiel meant following all the rules, and the demon had never had the opporunity to try anything exhilerating or risky before. Monsters did harmless pasttimes like bullcock tipping all the time. It was safe (for the most part) and Dean wanted to feel the rush of doing something wrong for once.

     "Well come on, brother! Let's go!" Benny laughed, opening the door and jogging outside. Dean dropped his teacup, watching it splash out across the table and form a new crack down its side. He ignored it and hurried out after his friend, who was making his way across the field.

     Benny got to a certain point and crouched down, beckoning for Dean to come closer and do the same.

     "These here bullcocks are nothin' special." he grinned. "So don't hesitate to give 'em a good scare. A little fear in the blood makes 'em taste better anyway."

     Dean leaned back, perplexed.

     "You eat them?" He blinked his rounded black orbs. "I thought you ate humans."

     Benny laughed quietly and put a finger to his lips to silence the demon, ignoring his comment.

     "Watch and learn." The young vampire wiggled his finger towards a lone bullcock and started sneaking towards it. It was separated from the rest of the herd, sitting still with one of its bird-like legs curled upwards. It balanced on one scaly foot and let its head nestle into its shoulders, sleeping as if it were a delicate statue.

     Dean snuck after Benny, but stopped a short distance back as the vampire approached the bullcock. He wondered how the vampire was going to surprise the beast enough to knock it over.

     With an excited shout, Benny shot out of the tall grass and lunged at the bullcock at full force. Right before he knocked into it, he stopped inches away and called loudly at the side of its head. The beast cried out, rolling back onto the heels of its claw-like feet. The weight of its massive muscular body was enough to roll it backwards, where the bullcock landed on its back and flailed there for a moment.

     Dean jumped out of his hiding place, howling with laughter.

     "That was great!" he exclaimed, eyeing the beast as it rolled furiously on its bulky bull body.

     "They're not hard to scare." Benny shrugged. "You give it a try. There's one by itself way over there." The vampire pointed a finger towards another lone bullcock across the field. "It'll make you feel better."

     Dean was already feeling better. Just messing around with Benny had cured him of Castiel's betrayal, and the demon boy hadn't thought about the human in several minutes.

     Taking Benny up on his offer, Dean began to slink towards the lone bullcock. Keeping his body loose but his posture rigid, he snuck up to the large beast and crouched at its side. The vampire was across the field, urging him on.

     After taking a deep breath, Dean lunged at the bullcock, letting out the loudest hoot he could manage. The beast shrieked and rocked backwards, balancing on the tips of its talons.

     It wasn't until then that he realized there was a tiny bullcock cowering by the larger one's toes.

     Bold horns rammed into Dean's torso and threw him several feet backwards. He landed on his back somewhere in the field, and a stab of pain shot up his arm from where it hit the ground. Nearby, Benny burst into laughter and approached his fallen friend.

     "Are you okay, brother?" he asked through his stifled laughs, extending a hand to help Dean to his feet. The demon groaned and sat up, rubbing his arm.

     "I think I broke my fucking arm." he grumbled. Benny's laughter subsided and he decided to help the blonde to his feet by supporting him as he stood.

     "Damn right you did." The vampire noticed the awkward angle of Dean's forearm. "Dislocated it, at least. Who would've known that ol' bullcock had a calf?"

     A sliver of doubt in Dean's head made him wonder if Benny had known about the calf or not.

     "It sure made a funny noise though." the blonde grinned.

     "There's the Dean Winchester I know!" Benny yowled, clapping his back a little too hard. Suddenly rather exhausted, the blonde let his feet drag across the grass all the way back to the stone cottage in the distance, the teenage vampire walking behind him with an outstretched arm in case Dean took a sudden fall. Benny had his share of bullcock injuries in the past, and dozens of other supernatural creatures for that matter. "You're just sore because you've never done anything fun before." the vampire pointed out, holding the door open.

     This comment sent Dean into a spiral of deep thoughts. It was true that he'd never spent much time wrecking havoc in the monster world, at least not nearly as much as he should have being the son of the demon king. That didn't mean that he hadn't had dozens of fun times with Castiel, even though they weren't as dangerous.

     Dean scoffed at the thought of Castiel flustering over his busted arm. The selfish side of him _wanted_ to see the human worry over him, even though he knew for a fact that demons mended bones faster than a human's papercut. Castiel deserved to worry because he was the one who asked Dean to leave in the first place. If he hadn't come back to the monster world, he wouldn't have attempted bullcock tipping with Benny. Technically speaking, it was _Castiel's_ fault that he broke his arm doing something reckless.

     His conscience caught up with him and Dean sighed, rubbing his head.

     _No. It wasn't Castiel's fault. It was mine,_ he told himself. Benny was urging him to sit on the same sofa as before while pouring him another chipped cup of tea.

     "Drink this. It will make you feel better." he nodded. Dean wasn't thirsty, but he drank the bitter tea anyway, sipping the earthy taste past his lips and making a face.

     "I should be going home, man. I need to get this wrapped up." The awkward bend of Dean's forearm was throbbing with every pulse of his monster blood. As much as he hated to admit it, it hurt terribly bad.

     The vampire waved one arm dismissively and sipped his tea with the other.

     "Suit yourself. My door is always open, brother."

     Dean gave his new friend a jagged smile and got up, leaving his half-empty teacup on the table with his other.

     "You can come to the castle sometime too, if you wanted. I'll be around." He watched Benny's lips curl upwards into a pleased grin and wiggled the wooden door closed. The walk back to the castle was a long one, but Dean didn't feel like snapping himself back. His head was still clouded with guilt about blaming Castiel for his rambunctious behavior. The demon started his quiet tread home, at least, to the place that he was born.

     Along the way, he passed several frolicking whitetails and a peacoon scrounging in a trash bag on the side of the road. Dean counted eight twitching striped tails sticking out of the garbage, and a masked face popped up and glared at him defensively as he passed.

     The moon was a funny hue of rose, a little darker than a fuchsia and a little lighter than its normal crimson color. It warned Dean that morning was upon them in the monster world, which meant that back in Pontaic, Illinois, the sun would be rising over the horizon and melting the frost on the Novak's front lawn. He tried not to think about waking up in Castiel's bed, tucked between human arms and heavy blankets. Yet, the longer he walked alone, the more lonesome he felt, and the more he regret being so far away from his best friend.

 

 

     When Dean finally returned to the royal castle, he was met by a very concerned gardener upon entering the grounds. Ash was a strange individual with wild hair and a laid back personality. They'd exchanged words a few times but he was nothing more to Dean than another member of the staff. Still, he knew him well enough to know that it was unusual to see him so stressed. In fact, the entire staff of the royal castle was quite lazy, seeing as monsters didn't care much about anything. It was strange to see anyone look worried. He knew something had to have happened for the werewolf to be so frazzled.

     "Did you find him?" he asked, a hint of hope in his amber eyes.

     Dean angled his head and stopped next to a carefully trimmed topiary of the royal crest.

     "Find who?" he inquired slowly, letting his hand drop from supporting his injured arm. He could smell the fear scent wafting around the gardener.

     "The king thought you might have, if anyone did." he murmured thoughtfully, as if questioning himself.

     "Might have _what?_ What are you talking about?" Dean demanded now, his voice raising with the strange nerves he was gathering in his stomach.

     "The young prince, dude. He's gone."

     Dean's breathing stopped abruptly and he felt pressure in his lungs, choking the air out of him. A chill ran down his spine and sent goosebumps down his arms, prickling him with fear and worry and all the emotions of a protective older brother. _Sam was missing?_ The only thing that the demon could do was stare at the gardener in disbelief and force himself to inhale.

    _"Sam?"_

     "Well, yeah, man. You're like... fifteen or something and he's like... eleven. That makes him the young prince, right? Unless you're both the young prince... wait..." Ash trailed off in his own mind, leaving Dean winded where he stood. Without responding to the dazed gardener, the demon took off running up the cobblestone stairs and into the castle doors. The castle was bustling with activity: maids holding their skirts up while they ran from room to room, guards pacing around with flashlights, and even Sam's tutor was among them, checking in rooms for any sign of the missing prince.

     "Sam!" Dean shouted, as if his little brother was going to leap out of a storage closet and jump on his back. "Sammy!"

     "Dean." His father's voice startled him and he turned to face John. The demon king looked straight at him and grabbed the bulk of his horn, using it to pull his son down the corridor. Dean gave a surprised shout and grabbed at his old man's wrist, digging his claws into cold flesh and struggling to free himself.

     "Let me _go_!" he screamed, twisting his torso around and trying to slip out of his grasp. John loosened his curled fingers only after dragging Dean into the library and slamming the door shut. "What the _hell_ was that for?" the teen demanded furiously, yanking his head away and rubbing his abused horn. There were white scratches etched into the onyx where his father's claws had dug into them, and he could feel the fresh ridges with the pads of his fingers. "Seriously, what the _hell,_ Dad?"

     "Where is your brother?" John growled, grabbing the front of Dean's shirt in his fist and lifting the prince into midair. Dean stretched his neck to either side and gave his feet a small shake. One hand wrapped around his father's arm to help support him and the other hung limp at his side in its broken fashion.

     "How the hell am I supposed to know?" Dean snarled. "Are you trying to kill me?"

     "I'm trying to knock some sense into you, boy." The demon king responded, dropping Dean to his feet and towering over him like a lion over its prey. The blonde held his ground, narrowing his eyes skeptically at his father and straightening the fabric of his shirt.

     "What are you going on about?"

     "Sam is gone because of your obsession with the human world." John's voice resembled a hell hound's growl in the way it was threatening him. He began to pace the room, carrying on before Dean could start to argue. "It's bad enough that _one_ of my sons has to be fascinated with such a petty species, but now my only hope for an heir has disappeared because of it. You convinced him to leave me and and flee to the human realm!"

     "That's ridiculous!" Dean shouted, getting between his father's path of travel. "I never said anything like that to Sam! He doesn't even like the human world!" Dean's voice was raised to a yell to match his father's shout, and their voices echoed off the pages of the spellbooks that lined the walls.

     "Then he's gone to try and live with you! You know how impressionable he is!" John continued. "You knew you were planting ideas in his head!"

     "Instead of blaming me for something that isn't my fault, how about you actually _look_ for your missing son?" Dean waved his arm at the entrance that he had just been pulled through. "No, you'd rather stand around here and blame me for something that's obviously your fault!"

     "Don't talk to me like that, I'm your father!"

     "Sammy hates the way you treat him! You're a dick, and you know it!"

     "Dean Winchester, don't make me break your other arm!" The demon king warned, raising a hand and unsheathing the long black claws from their golden sheathes.

     "I dare you to!" Dean scowled, turning his back to John and storming towards the doors to the library. "You're a horrible father to both of us, and we both hate you. I can't wait until you finally die, you pathetic bastard." Anger and fury swelled inside of him and it took all of his willpower not to turn and hurt the demon king. Such language was common for demons to use, but Dean still felt a wave of sadness as soon as the words had left his lips. It felt _especially_ cruel to say such things to his own father.

     Sam would never have run off to the human world. He couldn't even teleport. It wasn't Dean's fault he was missing, because he had only ever been kind and supportive of his little brother.

     _Right?_

Dean yanked the doors open and hurried down the hall to his corridors, every inch of his body prepared to work until he found Sam. He couldn't focus on his father's insensitivity now. There were a hundred places in the monster realm that he could have run off to, and a hundred more if the human world was really in question. Still, Dean couldn't understand the reasoning for Sam's sudden disappearance.

     _Oh Sammy... where are you?_

  


  
**Art by: Fuchsia_Light**  



	8. Runaway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Sam Winchester missing, Dean is doing everything in his power to find his little brother... even if that means doing the bidding of a petty drug-dealing demon. Meanwhile, Castiel wants a little time apart from his horned friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy cheeseballs I'm sorry for taking so long to update this. I'm horrible with commitments. Hopefully with university starting up again I'll get into a routine and work on this fic more frequently. A HUGE thank you to everyone who has stuck around and continues to stick around for this story. I've still got so much planned... hopefully you'll get some long-awaited Destiel love in the next few chapters! 
> 
> Your feedback inspires me and makes me squeal with delight. I'd love some more fanart for this chapter or the next few, so feel free to send some in! I love you all! I hope you continue to enjoy Under My Bed! 
> 
> -fuchsia light

     Within the hour, the entirety of the royal staff was turning the castle upside down for any sign of the young prince. By the end of the day, half of the monster realm had been searched and several thousand posters were hung upon every street lamp, glutton pub, and train station in a two hundred mile radius. There were no sightings of Sam Winchester, and no sign as to where he may have vanished to.

     Determined to find his brother, Dean had not stopped moving since his father's outlandish confrontation in the library. He poked his head into every nook and cranny of the castle, calling his brother's name with despair and shoving several dazed guards out of his way. Frustrated with his lack of findings, Dean even went so far as to use his hell hound to follow Sam's scent. Unfortunately, Fido's attempts were useless. The faint trail led straight out of the royal grounds and into the endless woods, where no patrol would be able to pursue. Still, the demon had not given up. When other teams turned back, he ducked his horned head and vanished out of sight; swallowed by the blackness of the forest.

     The trek through the woods was perilous, and he had to slice branches and thorns out of his path to make it through the thick undergrowth.

     The hell hound forced its flat face against the ground and snorted loudly. It was only able to follow the trail for a mile or so before stopping short and turning around to look at Dean, a look of disappointment in its glowing red eyes. Its owner sighed and leaned down to stroke long claws through its fur.

     "It's okay, boy. You did well." he praised after a discouraged sigh. The hell hound grunted and went shuffling back into the path from which they’d come. It’s loud breathing faded off with the crunching of dead leaves and Dean was left alone.

     The demon cursed and gazed around the place that Sam's scent trail had lead them. There was a peculiar twelve-foot radius of large trees that created a clearing. The blood moon shone directly overhead and the only shadow cast across the ground was his own.

     Sam’s scent had disappeared mysteriously in the clearing, and not even the nose of his hound could follow wherever the prince had vanished to. Dean was left with no choice but to turn around and head home, his head hung low with guilt looming over him like an ominous black cloud.

     _I was such a jerk to him. He probably ran off because I wasn't paying attention to what he was trying to say._ Dean ran his hand through his hair, walking without purpose through the thick woodlands he had just fought through. There was nothing around him but the whistling of wind through the trees, and the cold briskness of the air on his skin. The demon growled angrily and kicked a fallen tree stump, watching as several tiny lionmice scuttled out from the opening. One of them peered up at Dean with beady black eyes, as if silently asking why he had disturbed their home.

     "There's no use." A female voice spoke from the shadows of the darkness. Dean whipped around, claws unsheathed and ready to lunge at the unknown approacher.

     "Who's there?" he demanded without a sliver of fear in his tone. The newcomer didn't have to be asked twice. A young woman with dark, messy hair and gleaming black eyes stepped out from behind a towering oak. Her stance was casual; leaning against the bark of the tree with her eyelids blinking lazily. The clothes on her body were old and ragged. Her dress was an oversized black tunic, one that a man would have worn and tossed out.

     "You're not going to find your brother out here, Dean." she said in a reprimanding voice, waving her finger as if she was scolding him. "You should have paid more attention to the poor kid."

     "Who the _hell_ are you? Where is my brother?" he growled, grabbing the demon girl's shoulder with one hand and yanking her towards him. She was a full foot shorter and by knotting his hand in her shirt, he was able to pick her up off the ground. She raised her brow, clearly not threatened by his anger. "I'm going to ask you one more time, bitch." Dean growled, bringing their faces so close that their noses brushed. "Where is my brother?"

     "Little Sam didn't want to be a prince anymore." she said cooly, lifting a hand to brush a stray lock of hair from her eyes. "I know where he went, but that's for me to know, and you not to find out."

     Dean threw the girl backwards and pinned her against the tree by a hand around her throat. Although he squeezed her neck with all of his strength, the demon still managed to breathe.

     "I'm only the messenger, Dean."

     "You better tell me where the hell my brother is, or I'll skin you." Dean snarled, slowly digging his claws into her pale flesh. The demon girl coughed, but her expression did not falter.

     "I'll tell you... for a price."

     Dean's grip loosened and he dropped his hand, letting her land on her feet in front of the tree. He wasn't one for bargaining, but demons were notorious for making deals with each other. If it was something reasonable, he would give nearly anything to find out his brother was safe.

     "What do you want?" he asked warily.

     The girl's lips opened into a grin and she showed off her own row of razor sharp teeth.

     "I'm Meg." she introduced herself, taking a mock bow to the blonde in front of her. "You're Dean Winchester, the heir to the demon throne."

     "-and you're a petty demon who's asking for an ass-beating." Dean barked. "Stop trying to be the Cheshire Cat and get to the point."

     "You’re all talk and no bite, Dean.” Meg raised her brow, rubbing her throat where his claws had left tiny welts on her skin. “I hear you’ve got a nice little place in the human world. Cozy. Plenty of humans."

     “What are you getting at?” the blonde snapped, irritated with the demon in front of him. Every low class demon was a pain in his ass, always acting like they owned the monster realm when they couldn’t even collect souls for themselves to survive. This girl seemed no different, but she was cocky, and Dean hated the fact his brother’s safety rested in her hands.

     “I want you to hook me up.” Meg finished. “Here’s the thing, kid. I’ve got to get human blood. I need it more than you need to find your brother. So you bring me a ton of it- I don’t care if you’ve got to slaughter someone- I need that blood.”

     “Hell no!” The demon prince shouted, taking a step back. “Find your own goddamn drugs!” He wasn’t going to bring that abomination into the human world just so she could get a fix. Human blood was especially addicting to demons, and having it injected gave a temporary euphoria, like ecstasy would be for a human being. From the looks of her, Meg had been addicted for a while.

     “Then you’ll never figure out where your brother went.” The demon girl turned her back and started to climb through the thistles and brambles that crowded the woodlands.

     Dean stood dumbfounded, unsure whether or not to follow the girl. If she was the only one who knew where Sam was, she was his only hope in finding him. He couldn’t just let that hope walk away.

     “Wait!” he called to her, causing Meg to stop in her tracks. “Why can’t you go do it yourself? You can go to the human world like anyone else, can’t you?”

     “You know the human world better than any other demon alive. Why should I trouble myself when you can do it for me?" Meg grinned. 

Dean pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. 

     “Relax. I’m not asking you to kill your friends.” Meg rolled her black orbs into her head and laughed softly. “They must have a place that humans go when they’re dying or something.”

     Dean thought about the hospitals. There were dozens of dying humans there, but he could never lift a hand to finish them off, especially not to gather their blood so a demon could get high.

     “Think about it.” Meg sighed. “All I need is a few pints.”

     “How do I know you’ll hold up your end of the bargain?” he questioned, glaring at her.

     “You’ll have your old man kill me if I don’t.” she hummed. Dean scoffed.

     “You’ve got to be pretty desperate to be coming to me about this.” He said, uncrossing his arms and rubbing his horn stressfully.

     “You’ve got to be pretty desperate to consider it.” Meg smirked in return.

     As much as he hated to admit it, Meg was right. He was desperate to find out where his brother had disappeared to, and why. If it was really his fault that Sam ran away from the royal castle, it was his job to find Sam and bring him back. The monster world was a dog-eat-dog place and he hated to imagine the kind of dangerous situations that the eleven-year-old prince may have gotten himself into already.

     “Fine. I’ll get you your blood.” Dean hesitantly agreed, raising his arm to point a finger threateningly at her. “But first, tell me where my brother is.”

     Meg cracked her neck and peeled herself away from the oak tree.

     “Get me my order. Then we’ll talk.”

     The demon girl snapped her fingers and she was gone. Dean growled, curling his hand into a fist and slamming it into the tree in front of him. As furious as he was for being used by a petty demon, he knew that Meg was his only chance at bringing his brother home.

 

 

     “Thank you, have a wonderful evening.” The blue-eyed teenager waved to a departing customer as they picked up their bag of brand new books and went on their way. He pushed his thick-rimmed glasses up on his nose and gazed over the space beneath the counter, making sure there were plenty of plastic bags for purchases and that everything was stacked neatly. He was pleased with how easy his job was and how much he enjoyed working at a book store. The customers were all pleasant and friendly, and during the less-busy hours, Castiel could sit and enjoy a book of his own.

     Reading distracted him from the argument that he had with Dean just the day before. He certainly hadn’t expected the demon boy to take off in such a fury. When Castiel said he was hoping for some time apart, he hadn’t meant it in a bad way. Even the best of friends had to have some time apart, didn’t they? It was unhealthy and unnatural to spend every minute with your friend, even if you have grown up with them since you were kids.

     Castiel had to keep reminding himself this as he climbed into bed that night, feeling the cold, empty space of his bed where Dean usually lay.

     The jingle of the front door opening brought Castiel out of his thoughts, and he set aside his copy of “Frankenstein”.

     “Welcome to Books-A-Ton. Can I help you find-” When he actually looked up, Castiel was startled to see someone from Pontiac High School, a senior he recognized as Uriel.

     Uriel recognized Castiel, too. The older teen froze in his tracks, looking horrified to be caught walking into a bookstore on his own. Castiel counted the seconds and the series of excuses that Uriel was flipping through in his head.

     “-anything?” Castiel finished uncomfortably, leaning back against the stool and accidentally tipping it over with his weight. In the short amount of time it took for him to bend down and put it back on its legs, the door was ringing again and Uriel bolted from the store.

     Castiel sighed and sat down, Uriel was one of the many older boys who bullied him at school. He couldn’t count the number of bruises he’d acquired from being shoved into lockers or knocked over desks from the hands of the same disgruntled teen that had just walked into his workplace.

     Hopefully he wouldn’t return with several of his friends and harass him here as well.

     “Cas.”

     Dean’s sudden voice behind him surprised Castiel more than usual. He hadn’t expected the demon to show up at his work, much less after the attitude he had stormed out with before.

     “Dean?” The blue-eyed teen turned around, blinking several times. He wasn’t even trying to hide his demon appearance. “What are you doing here?”

    After observing him for a moment, Castiel quickly realized that Dean didn’t look quite as healthy as before. His skin was a muted grey and his eyes seemed more hollow than usual, as if he hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep. The bookstore employee wasn’t sure whether or not to ask if it was because of what he’d said.

     Before he could decide, the demon had reached out and grabbed Castiel’s shoulder, pulling him close and burying his nose into the front of Castiel’s shirt.

     “Sammy’s gone missing, Cas.” he admitted, his torso shaking. “He ran off, and I think it’s my fault.”

     “Sam ran away?” Castiel repeated incredulously, pulling away and holding Dean at arm’s length to stare him in the eyes. “When? Dean, _did you break your arm?_ ” He looked down at the sling that held Dean’s arm at an angle against his chest.

     “It’s not important. Look, I need your help. I’ve been searching all day, and the only person who knows where he went is this stupid drug-addict demon named Meg, and she wants me to-”

     “Dean, I’m working.” Castiel whispered, feeling guilt swell inside of him for having to refuse the demon help in finding his brother.

     “Are you my best friend, or not?” Dean retorted. “I need to find him before something bad happens! He’s just a kid, Cas!”

     The urgency in Dean’s tone defeated Castiel’s willpower. It was easy to see how worked up the demon prince was about finding his missing brother, and Castiel couldn’t really blame him.

     “Meg said she would tell me where Sam went if I got her some blood.” Dean continued quickly. “I don’t want to trust her, but she’s the only lead I’ve got-”

     “Wait, who’s Meg?” Castiel tilted his head and furrowed his brow in confusion. “ _Blood?_ ”

     “Honestly, Cas. Do you listen at all?” The blonde rolled his eyes and sunk down against the wall, bringing his knees up. “Meg is some junkie I met in the woods when I was looking for Sam. She said she knows where Sam went and she’ll tell me if I get her a few pints of human blood..”

     Castiel tried to keep himself from looking dumbfounded, and his brows slowly rose into a horrified expression.

     “N-not my blood.” he pointed at himself.

     “No, dumbass!” Dean snapped. “I just have to go to the hospital or something. They’ve got loads of that stuff floating around, don’t they?” He wasn’t planning on killing anyone if he could help it, but he would do anything for his brother.

     “You’re going to steal blood? I’m pretty sure that’s illegal.” Castiel’s mouth turned downwards into a frown, and Dean was starting to feel embarrassed that he had come to his human friend in the first place.

     “Of course it is. Everything is illegal here.” He grunted. “But Cas, you’ve got to help me find Sam. I’m not asking _you_ to break into a blood bank or anything. I just need you to help me find my brother.”

     Castiel peered around the empty bookstore. There was no one there except them, and the blue-eyed teen was thankful that Jody had left him in charge. If she knew he was slacking off to chit chat with a demon, he could lose his job.

     If she got over the demon part, that is.

     “I thought you were mad at me.” Castiel turned his back to Dean and began to straighten up the displays on the checkout counter.

     “I _am_ mad at you. You kicked me out.”

     “I did not.” Castiel argued calmly. “You overreacted.”

     “Why does everyone keep telling me that?” the demon demanded, jumping to his feet. “Are you going to help me, or not, dammit?”

     The two stared at each other uneasily for a painfully long pause. Castiel’s eyes scanned over Dean- his broken arm, the dark circles under his eyes, and the frustration in his eyes. He knew that his friend needed him, he was just hesitant to run to the demon’s rescue.

     “It's not like I can come to your world to help you look for him." the brunette sighed, twiddling his thumbs.

     "Well that's just the thing... my old man thinks Sammy may have come here." Dean rubbed his forehead, feeling the beginnings of a headache. "I don't know how he could, he's not old enough to-"

     The door opened and the bell above the entryway jingled, alerting Castiel of a new customer. In a flash, Dean disappeared, leaving the brunette to stand alone behind the counter.

     "Hi, welcome to Books-A-Ton. How can I help you today?" Castiel's voice sounded monotone, like an answering machine. He was still incredibly distracted by what Dean had been saying.

     The customer was an elderly woman in search of a nice new Bible for her husband. Castiel rang her up and waited patiently for her to leave, thankful that business was rather slow that day.

     "Dean?" he called hesitantly. "You can come out now."

     The demon appeared on the other side of the counter, resting his broken arm on the surface and leaning over to whisper to Castiel.

     "The whole world is looking for my brother, and no one's found a trace of him. Even my hell hound couldn't follow his trail and that's impossible. So, if Sammy really found his way here, it had to have been through an established portal. He's not _strong_ enough to come here on his own." Dean grabbed a magazine from the checkout aisle and a pen from a rack nearby. He quickly began scribbling an outline on the front of the magazine, ignoring Castiel's pleas for him to write on something that wasn't property of the book store.

     "There." Dean finished, popping the lid back onto the pen and sliding the magazine towards the teen. "This is a map of every portal i know of from my world to yours in a ten mile radius."

     Castiel peered down at the magazine cover. The image of a popular actor was vandalized by Dean's scribbles, but the map looked comprehensible.

     "That's a lot of ground to cover." he commented, scratching his head. "I've never even met your brother. I don't know what he looks like."

     Dean grunted and dug into his pocket, retrieving one of the flyers posted in the monster realm. It had a recent picture of "Prince Samuel Winchester" and a reward amounting to several million in monster currency. He handed the flyer to Castiel, smoothing out some of its crinkles as he did.

     "Sam Winchester." he said, as if his brother was standing there right then. Castiel's eyes glazed over the image and the strange paper that it was printed on. It was a scroll made of parchment, something he wouldn't expect to see in his day to day life.

     "I'll do what I can, Dean." he finally said, shrugging his shoulders and tucking the scroll into his own pocket. "I'll take a look around town when I get off of work, alright?"

     "Thank you." the demon's graciousness sounded forced, as he was still irritated by Castiel's earlier behavior. "I'm going to head back and see if they've heard anything. Then I guess I'm headed to the hospital to pick up some blood."

     Before the blonde could snap himself away, Castiel grabbed Dean's wrist and held him in place.

     "Huh?"

     "Dean." the brunette tilted his head ever so slightly, and his breath seemed to quicken as he stared into the dark abyss of his demon friend's eyes. "Please be careful.”

     Dean raised his brow.

     “You’re asking a demon to be careful?” A familiar sneaky grin came across the demon boy’s features, and he disappeared with a quiet snap. Castiel was left alone in the bookstore, feeling uncertain whether or not to worry about the hot fuzzy feeling in his chest.

 

 

     Castiel did not need to look far for Sam Winchester.

     After work, the brunette closed up the shop and slipped on his backpack as he dug for the key to his bike chain. It was lightly drizzling outside, and he thought about going straight into town with the flyer that Dean had handed him, but it was _cold_ and he forgot his heavy jacket at home. The teen decided to make a quick trip home before heading off to search the town for Dean’s brother.

     Upon returning home, he noticed a strange hooded figure sitting on the steps of his front porch. Castiel dropped his bike in the driveway and walked over, slowing down when he came into a close proximity of the hooded person.

     Castiel could think of no one else it could possibly be.

     “Sam?” he called uncertainly. The stranger lifted its head and he was unsurprised to see the face of a child that looked remarkably like the poster Dean had given him.

     “Are you Castiel?” the boy squeaked, getting to his feet and reaching out to grab the front of his shirt. The brunette stumbled backwards slightly, startled at the sudden outreach.

     “Y-yeah, that’s me.” he admitted.

     “I’m so glad I found you.” Sam buried his face into the front of his shirt, and he could hear the boy’s nose running. “I did something really stupid, and Dean is never going to forgive me!”

     Castiel hesitantly peeled himself away from the boy’s grasp, but crouched down in front of him and put his hand on Sam’s small shoulder. He could see the slight resemblance between the two of them, although it was strange to see a demon without black eyes or big horns.

     “Your brother is very worried about you. He’s been looking for you all afternoon.” he said in a light scolding tone. Castiel was relieved that he had returned home instead of going straight into town.

     “I know…” Sam sniffled pitifully, wiping his teary eyes. “I was just so mad! All he cares about is the human world, and Dad always makes me work extra hard because Dean is never home.” the boy held back another cry and rubbed his eyelids. “I thought if I came here too, I could spend more time with Dean and Dad would stop yelling at me to work harder.”

     Castiel felt a stab of guilt for the young boy. He felt partially responsible- if Dean spent less time in the human world, he would have had more time for his brother. But that didn’t mean he could take care of _two_ demons.

     “W-where is he?” Sam continued. “Is he coming back here?”

     Castiel shrugged and looked off down the street as if the demon was going to appear in the distance.

     “Last time I heard, he was still looking for you.” Castiel frowned. He glanced over at the garage, which was empty of Michael’s car. “Why don’t you come inside, Sam? I’m sure Dean will come back soon.”

     The young prince sniffled and he nodded, allowing Castiel to move past him and unlock the front door. The house was dark and quiet, and Castiel led Sam into the kitchen.

     “Do you want something to drink?” he offered, opening up the fridge and looking around for a juice box or something. Sam was quiet for a moment as he sat at the kitchen table and watched him.

     “Do you have any cow milk?” he asked quietly. “Dean said cow milk is really good. I’ve only ever had dragon milk before.” Castiel chuckled and reached for the milk jug, pouring him a glass and handing it to him. The prince took an eager sip and made a satisfying noise.

     “Maybe one day I can try some dragon milk.” he joked, leaning against the counter and watching the boy drink from his glass. “How did you get here, anyway?”

     “Hm?” Sam blinked, licking the white residue from his upper lip.

     “Dean said you can’t teleport by yourself. How did you get here?” he asked curiously.

     “I used a portal.” Sam explained. “I read about them in _Monstrous Mayhem: A History._ One of the portals took me straight to your backyard! I knew it was your house because it smells like Dean. Like, a _lot._ ”

     He sounded pleased with himself.

     “That’s convenient…” the brunette huffed. “Do the portals work both ways?”

     Sam set his empty glass on the kitchen table and shook his head.

     “No, I don’t think so. I’ve only heard of demons using the portals to gather souls. I’m not old enough to gather souls yet, so I had to get help. I’ll have to go home before my thirteenth birthday so I can take my assessment and reap my first soul and then I can come and go whenever I want, just like Dean!”

     Castiel wondered if he would have ever stumbled into the portal by accident. He could imagine himself mowing the lawn and spiraling down a purple vortex into another world full of demons and monsters. Blinking the thoughts from his head, the young man returned to the present.

     “I’m sorry Sam, but you can’t stay here.” Castiel said gently. “Once Dean comes back, he’s going to take you home.” He decided not to add the part about the human world being dangerous for one (much less two) young demons.

     “Why not?” Sam immediately pouted, crossing his arms angrily and puffing out his chest. “I can take care of myself. I don’t need Dean or anyone else to watch out for me.”

     “I’m sure you don’t-” Castiel began.

     “I’m not going back there!” Sam shouted. “Dean’s been coming here since he was younger than me!”

     Castiel felt out of place arguing with a boy. He sucked in a deep breath and regretted never getting Dean a cell phone for Christmas. Sinking down into a chair at the kitchen table, Castiel rested his forehead in his hands and sighed loudly. Sam took the seat in front of him, his small lips turned downwards in a disappointed frown.

     “Please don’t make me leave, Cas.” Sam pleaded softly, the nickname that Dean had given him sounding foreign on another boy’s tongue. “I don’t want to go back there again. Dad is really hard on me and I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

     Castiel blinked several times at the young boy and eventually shook his head.

     “We’ll wait for Dean to come back.” he said. “Then we’ll talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you guys think? I feel like Sam is a little Hermione Granger... he spends all his time reading books and studying! Meg is a wild card, but you'll see more of her later... comment and kudos for faster updates!


	9. Invitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam is found in an unexpected place, hiding from his father and the stress of being a prince. Castiel finally stands up for himself, and Dean makes a grave mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What a treat! Two chapters within the same week! As always, thanks for all the support! I made an official tumblr blog for this fic (demon-ackles) where you can follow updates, author notes, and other tidbits! If you're interested in following my main blog, it's (fuchsia-light). 
> 
> I know I keep promising this, but the real destiel will be coming soon! I like plot. Plot is good.
> 
> Let me know what you think and feel free to make fanart (I'm looking for some fanart to post on these chapters and on tumblr).
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: bullying, anxiety/panic attacks, violence, some mentions of drugs, death, and animal crackers

     Dean paced the sidewalk.

     Demons were supposed to _enjoy_ causing a ruckus in the human world, so why did he feel so _guilty_ about what he was about to do?

     The blonde stopped in front of the double doors that led inside Pontiac Memorial Hospital. The plan he had worked out in his head was far from fool-proof. Disguising himself as a human and sneaking inside to visit his imaginary “mother” seemed like a good start, but he was unsure how he was going to sneak out of sight and into whatever laboratory they stored their blood in.

     Pacing was only speeding up his heart rate and making him more nauseous.

     _Do it for Sammy,_ he told himself. _He needs you._

     Dean focused on transforming into a human and pushed his way through the doors, walking with purpose beneath the blinding white fluorescent lights and stopping cluelessly in the middle of the room.

     A human hospital.

     He’d never seen one before.

     In his world, if you were sick enough to need rest, you stayed home and ate bitter herbs in your soup. If you were severely injured, a mage was called to heal you for an extravagant price. Naturally, the royal castle had its own healing mage.

     “Can I help you?”

     Dean jerked his head towards a counter in the wall that he hadn’t seen. A small woman sat behind a desk, looking at him with raised eyebrows.

     “Uh… yeah.” Dean moved towards the counter, stopping uncomfortably in front of it. “My name is Dean Winchester. I’m here to visit my Mom?”

     Before the small woman could pick up her clipboard, Dean leaned over to tap the paper with his index finger. A previously written name was inconspicuously replaced with a new one.

    “It should be Mary Winchester.” he added smugly.

     The woman’s eyes scanned the paper and she began to stand, a gentle smile on her face.

     “Your Mom is in Room 304.” she told him, pointing towards another set of double doors. “Go ahead.”

     Dean was surprised that she did not escort him, but it saved for a lot of trouble (otherwise he would have had to put someone to sleep, and manipulate more paperwork). The blonde shuffled nonchalantly down the hallway with his hand stuffed in his pocket, the other one dangling lazily out of its sling. He passed several open doorways as he strolled, but didn’t bother to look inside knowing he could rely on his demon senses to find what he was looking for.

     Fortunately, demons had quite the nose for human blood.

     Dean could tell when he was getting close, and not just because the rusty tang of blood was heavy in the air.

     The patient rooms had turned into storage closets and doors labeled things like “X-RAY”. The demon continued to meander until he came to a set of double doors labeled “LABWORK”, pushing through them and nearly choking on the overwhelming aroma of fresh blood.

     The laboratory was conveniently empty, allowing Dean to walk straight up to the refrigerator. Inside were bags and bags of blood, all marked by blood type and amount. Nervously, the blonde began to grab as many bags as he could, balancing them in his sling and against his chest. He could feel his skin prickling with unease, knowing very well that he was doing something wrong.

     “Stupid demon…” he mumbled, gathering several small bags in his arms and kicking the fridge closed with his foot.

     “What are you _doing?!_ ”

     Dean hadn’t been expecting a doctor to enter the room, spotting him with his armload of stolen blood bags. The demon stared in horror with his mouth agape, watching the doctor reach for an emergency button on the wall.

     “STOP!” The demon prince shouted, throwing an arm out towards the man and subsequently scattering bags across the floor. One of them broke open and crimson liquid splurted out across the pristine white tiles. A black spark shot from the the palm of his hand and disappeared into the man’s flesh.

     The doctor stopped.

     The man in the doorway stood frozen, his eyes glazing over in a strange way.

     He wobbled in place for a moment, then toppled forward and landed against the floor with limbs sprawled and fresh blood running from his nostrils and the corners of his eyes.

     He was dead.

     Dean began to cough when he realized what he had just done. Letting the remainder of the stolen bags fall, the blonde hurried to the doctor’s side and began to shake him in hopes of waking the man. It only took a few seconds to realize he was in a very bad situation. If anyone else entered the room, they would know he was the one who killed the doctor.

     Panicked, Dean began to gather the bags off the floor. He tried to snap himself away from the scene, but his fingers were slick with blood from the busted bag.

     “No, no, no!” he shouted, rubbing his hand madly against the material of his pants to wipe his fingers dry. There were footsteps hurrying down the hall. He could hear them.

     “Help, please, help!” he continued to cry out, not to the doctors and nurses rushing down the hallway, but to anyone else who could possibly save him.

     With a cold gust of wind, Dean realized he was no longer standing in the hospital. He looked down at himself, his sleeves and his sling covered in blood from the precious goods he was carrying. The blood that should have smelled appetizing to a demon instead made him want to vomit.

     “Congratulations, Dean.” murmured the pleased voice of John Winchester. The demon king removed his hand from his son’s shoulder, opening his arms to motion to the castle around them. They stood in a barren corridor, one that was close to the king’s quarters. It took a moment for Dean to realize that his father had been the one to grab him from the human world and bring him back to the safety of the monster world. He slowly lifted his head to look up at his father, a confused and frightened expression on his face.

     “F-For what?” he managed to stutter. There was a wide, jagged grin across John’s face.

     “You’ve killed your first human” he said. “I’m proud of you, son.”

     Dean felt his knees give out and went crumpling to the floor.

 

 

     Night came around and there was still no sign of Dean. Castiel had managed to keep Sam busy, showing him how the TV worked and letting him sample “human” food from the pantry. The young prince now sat on the carpet in front of the television with a box of animal crackers in one hand and a bag of chips in the other. He was focused entirely on the program, only looking away to grab another handful of snacks. Castiel sat across the room, watching him and waiting for Dean to appear out of thin air like he normally did.

     Remembering his full backpack upstairs, Castiel began to worry about the amount of homework he had managed to avoid that evening. There was school in the morning, and he had never missed a homework assignment before.

     What was more, there was a young runaway half-demon prince sitting in his living room and eating all of his junk food. Castiel reached up to rub his temples, feeling suddenly overwhelmed by it all. The argument with Dean, the schoolwork, Uriel in the book store, Sam, and worrying about his best friend all washed over him like a wave of nerves and anxiety. The brunette began to tremble. His knees knocked against each other and he covered his face in his hands, forcing himself to take deep breaths.

     Sam’s sensitive ears could hear the rapid acceleration of Castiel’s heart and turned around with concern.

     “Castiel? Are you okay?”

     Castiel heard the boy in the back of his mind, but did not answer. His wrists began to ache from their fidgeting and his head felt like it was about to explode. When he felt a small hand on his shoulder, he lashed out and knocked it away.

     Sam took a startled step backwards and watched the human with uncertainty.

     “Do you need a mage?” he asked quietly, helping the situation no more than the touch to his arm.

     Castiel’s shoulders shook more rapidly and he curled up into a ball on the couch, tucking his chin into his knees and covering his head with his arms. He let out tiny whimpers and moans, sounding as if he had just lost someone dear to him. The young prince, having no idea what an anxiety attack was, stood helplessly in front of him.

     Dean appeared in the living room at a convenient time, stroking his tail between his hands and looking around with beady black eyes. Shock and relief overcame him when he spotted his brother standing in front of him.

     “Sammy!” he cried, throwing his arm around the boy and hugging him tightly to the side of his chest. “Have you been here the whole damn time? I’ve been looking everywhere for-” Dean cut himself off, noticing the shaking ball of Cas on the couch. He pursed his lips, slowly pulling away from his brotherly embrace and approaching his friend.

     “Cas?” he asked. His voice was barely enough to bring Castiel out of his fit, and the brunette peeked out at him with watery blue eyes. “Is it another attack?” he continued, crouching down to be eye level with him. Castiel nodded his head slowly, and anxiety racked his breath.

     “An attack?” Sam piped from behind him, peering over his shoulder. “What kind of attack? Is he sick?”

     “An anxiety attack.” Dean explained quickly, nudging his brother backwards. “Give him space, Sammy.” As much as he wanted to give his brother the twenty-questions, he needed to find out what was wrong with Cas first. “Did he say anything?”

     Sam shook his head quickly.

     “No, we were just watching TV.”

     Dean put his cold hand on Castiel’s arm. The familiar touch did not make Castiel knock his hand away like he had with Sam’s. The blue-eyed teen seemed to relax knowing that Dean was present.

     “I w-was worried.” he choked out, muffling his words into his knees.

     “I’m fine.” the demon assured him. “I’m sorry for making you worry.” It was surprising for him to hear that Castiel had gotten so worked up over his absence.

     Step one: Apologize.

     “I d-don’t know what h-happened.” Castiel continued to whimper, rubbing at his eyes with the back of his clammy hand.

     “It’s okay, Cas. I’m right here.” Dean soothed.

     Step two: Comfort.

     Castiel reached out and latched onto the front of Dean’s shirt, burying his nose into the crook of his neck. Dean felt cold to the touch and cooled his heated skin. The demon curled his arm around Castiel’s back, holding him close.

     “What’s going on?” Sam squeaked, plopping down onto the floor and watching his brother interact with the human. He knew that Dean and Castiel were friends, but their embrace looked a lot different than the embrace of two friends.

     “Shut up, Sam.” Dean said in a surprisingly calm tone. “I’ll get to you in a minute.”

     It took several minutes to completely coax Castiel out of his panic attack. When he had finally stopped shaking, Dean fetched him his anxiety medication from the bathroom upstairs and brought it to him with a glass of water.

     Castiel sat quietly, sipping his water and watching Dean as he sat Sam down on the other couch.

     “What were you _thinking_?!” he demanded, waving his good arm in the air madly. “You could have been hurt! Or killed! Everyone in the demon world is out looking for you! Dad blames me for you running off like a kid and I said _Oh no, Sammy hates the human world, why would he go there?_ And here you are, hanging out in my best friend’s house like it’s a goddamn vacation! How could you be so _stupid_?! Do you know what I did to try and find out where you went? I had to steal _drugs_ Sammy! Drugs! All for absolutely nothing! Didn’t you think about anyone but yourself?!”

     Sam stared at the floor, allowing his brother to scold him. He didn’t open his mouth to speak until Dean had finished yelling.

     “I’m sorry, Dean. I thought I could stay here with you, and then I wouldn’t have to learn how to be king either.” His voice was pitiful and quiet. Dean’s expression softened and he dropped his hand to his side, sighing loudly.

     “I don’t blame you for that part.” he muttered, sinking down onto the couch beside his brother. His tail curled around the boy’s waist. “But Sam, the human world is dangerous. You don’t belong here.”

     “Then neither do you! You’re supposed to be a king one day, Dean! You’re supposed to be my brother!”

     Dean folded his arms and huffed loudly.

     “Dean, my brother is going to be home soon.” Castiel interjected, getting to his feet. “I hate to interrupt, but Michael wouldn’t take well to two demons sitting in our living room.”

     “Cas is right.” Dean looked back at his brother. “Come on, Sammy. I’m taking you home”

     “No!” Sam shouted, jumping up and fleeing across the room. “You can’t! I won’t let you!”

     “Sam, get back here! Don’t make me chase you!” the blonde snapped.

     “I won’t go back there!” Sam argued, backing up against the wall. Dean advanced on him like a predator closing in on its prey.

     “You can’t stay here, Sam. There’s nowhere for you to stay. Cas doesn’t even want _me_ sticking around here.” He shot a look at the brunette, who dropped his head sadly at the accusation.

     “Then I’ll find my own place!” the younger Winchester insisted. “You’ve got to give me a chance! I’m old enough to make my own decisions!”

     “You’re not even old enough to teleport!” Dean scoffed. “How the Hell did you even get here in the first place? I didn’t think you were even old enough to use the portals by yourself!”

     “Someone helped me.” Sam said curtly. Dean’s black orbs narrowed seriously.

     “ _Who_ helped you?” he demanded, cornering his brother against the wall now.

     “S-some random lady in the woods.” the young prince stuttered, feeling intimidated now by his brother’s cold eyes. “She said she could get me through the portal.”

     “Meg.” Dean growled, curling his hand into a fist. “The piece of trash who made me break into the hospital.”

     “What’s a hospital?”

     “Dean-” Castiel interrupted again, looking sideways as headlights shined into the windows and the sound of a grumbled engine rolled into the garage and cut off.. “Michael.” he reminded him more urgently.

     Dean nodded to Castiel and grabbed Sam’s arm.

     “I’m bringing you back home.” the blonde said, using the hand resting outside of his sling to rub his thumb and middle finger together.

     “No, please don’t-” Sam’s shouts were cut off as the two demon heirs teleported away, leaving Castiel standing dumbly in the center of the living room.

     Michael entered just a moment later, dropping his briefcase on the floor and taking off his shoes.

     “Hey buddy. Did you have a good day at school?”

     After the busy day that Castiel had, it was hard to remember anything that happened at school that morning. He picked up Sam’s abandoned bags of snacks and headed upstairs to his bedroom, his head still spinning from his anxiety attack.

     “Yeah, it was fine.” he said before skipping up the last few steps and going straight to his room, loudly closing the door behind himself and leaving Michael standing very confused at the base of the staircase.

 

 

    The next few days passed slowly. There was no news from Dean in this time, leaving Castiel to his imagination. Maybe the demon king decided it was best to keep both of his sons in the monster world. Maybe Sam had convinced Dean to stay with him after all. Maybe Dean was still angry at Castiel for sending him away in the first place.

     The possibilities troubled Castiel, especially in a distracting place like school. It worried him that he couldn’t stop thinking about Dean Winchester and the way his stomach was filled with butterflies when he remembered Dean’s cold embrace.

     With only one class left in the day, Castiel had just opened his locker when it was violently slammed shut by a large, forceful hand. The senior named Uriel was standing to his side, and his massive hand had left a dent in his locker. Castiel swallowed hard and avoided eye contact with the bully who had been pestering him for weeks.

     “Please leave me alone.” Castiel murmured, fixing his gaze on his shoes.

     “What was that, midget?” Uriel taunted, curling his hand into a fist and cracking his fingers loudly.

     “I _said,_ please leave me alone.” the brunette repeated. “Please. Today’s not a good day, Uriel.”

     “Oh, boo hoo.” the bully sneered, grabbing Castiel’s textbooks out of his arms and knocking them to the ground. “What’re you going to do about it?”

     Castiel clenched his teeth.

     “Go ahead, nerd. Pick them up.” said Uriel. When Castiel didn’t move, he grabbed the boy’s shoulders and forced him down onto his knees. “I said _pick them up_!” he shouted, drawing the attention of several students around them. Already on his knees, Castiel began to scoop his textbooks into his arms, taking a moment to adjust the pages that had been bent in the fall. As soon as he stood, Uriel knocked them out of his arms again.

     “Pick them up, nerd!” Uriel ordered again, pointing at the ground with his index finger. “ _Now_.”

     Castiel crouched down and began to gather his books once again. While he was down, Uriel kicked him in the stomach and knocked him flat on his back. A chorus of “oooooh” from the students only seemed to urge Uriel on. Castiel groaned slightly, putting his hands over his stomach where the senior’s shoe had collided.

     “Pick them up, Novak!” Uriel shouted louder, grabbing the front of Castiel’s shirt and pulling him onto his knees again. He forced Castiel to lean over his fallen textbooks and continued to bark at him to pick them up.

     When Uriel knocked them out of his arms for a third time, Castiel tightened his shaky hands into fists and stood up, facing his bully and giving him a challenging glare. The quickly growing group of students looking on made another “oooooooh” as the boy being bullied stood up to his attacker.

     “You know, you should treat books with more respect.” he said in a quiet but stern voice. Uriel snorted and looked around his posse of classmates.

     “Is that right?” The senior raised his foot and stomped down onto one of Castiel’s open textbooks. The sound of pages crinkling and tearing against the linoleum made the freshman wince. “That’s what I think about your stupid _books,_ nerd.”

     Castiel’s expression lightened and a clever smile came across his face.

     “Is that why you showed up at Books-A-Ton and ran out like a scaredy-cat when you realized I was the one working there? I think you really like books, Uriel. I think that’s why you’re so obsessed with me.”

     The crowd collapsed into different shouts.

     “Shut up!” Uriel snapped, reaching out and taking Castiel’s shirt into his fist again. “The only thing I care about is beating you to a pulp!”

     He reeled his other arm back, swinging a powerful punch into the side of Castiel’s face. The students exploded into loud chants.

     _“Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!”_

Uriel released Castiel, giving him the opportunity to swing back at him.

     “Go ahead, Novak. Hit me.” he beckoned. “Hit me, I dare you!

     Filled with fury and overwhelmed with everything that had happened in the last few days, Castiel threw his fist into Uriel’s face. It was the first time he had ever reacted to his harassment in a violent manner and it felt _good_ to hear Uriel’s nose crack against his knuckles. The senior stumbled backwards, holding his face as blood gushed from his nostrils. Castiel knew what a broken nose looked like.

     Clearly, Uriel hadn’t expected such a powerful punch to come from someone who appeared so weak.

     “Why you-” Uriel began, dropping his hand and coming straight for him. The brunette ducked and dodged to the side, sending the senior running into an on watching student instead. Castiel’s eye was beginning to ache terribly from Uriel’s fist, but he kept his stare on the bully. “I’ll make you regret that!” Uriel shouted, taking another running start at him and this time throwing him into the lockers. Castiel gasped when he felt a lock dig into his back. The other boy’s massive body held him against the metal, and every time he tried to wriggle free, Uriel punched him in the gut.

     By this time, the students were all shouting so loudly that the administration had come to break up the fight, forcing their way through the students. One of the larger assistant principals grabbed Uriel and dragged him away from Castiel, and another man grabbed Castiel by the arm.

     Castiel wiped his mouth of the blood that had come up when Uriel hit him in the stomach.

     He didn’t fight the administration as he was taken to the disciplinary office. In fact, he walked rather proudly. For the first time, he had stood up for himself.

     And it felt pretty good.

 

 

     Of course, Michael didn’t seem to think so. Castiel got a stern scolding when his brother was called to pick him up from school. He sat in the passenger seat of Michael’s corvette, holding an ice pack to his face while Michael went on about the consequences of fighting in school.

     “I would love to ground you, but you don’t play on the computer and you don’t go out with any friends. So how am I supposed to punish you?” Michael grumbled.

     “I think this is punishment enough.” Castiel said, leaning his elbow against the door of the car and resting his head against the window. “I’m going to be sore for a month.”

     Michael sighed and stared out the dashboard, searching for the right words to say.

     “I don’t get it, Castiel. You’ve never done anything like this before. Is it the school? Do you want me to homeschool you again? It’s not a problem, you know. We can set you back up with Dr. Crow-”

     “No.” Castiel interrupted quickly. “I don’t want to be homeschooled and I don’t need to see Dr. Crowley anymore. I’m fine, Michael. Maybe now those guys will finally stop pushing my buttons.”

     “Castiel, violence is-”

     “-never the answer, I _know._ ” He’d heard Michael’s pep talk a hundred times before. “But that guy destroyed one of my books. It’s gonna cost at least two paychecks at the bookstore to pay for the damages.”

     That was, ultimately, what had angered Castiel the most. He could have handled getting harassed, but seeing Uriel stomp on his expensive textbooks unlocked a darker, angrier side of Castiel.

     “I can’t believe you broke his nose.” Michael muttered in disbelief, pulling into the driveway.

     “I can’t believe I got suspended for the rest of the week.” Castiel retorted, pulling the ice pack away from his black eye. “That’s never going to come off my academic record.”

     He got out of the car and marched straight upstairs to his bedroom, ignoring Michael when he suggested calling his therapist. As he opened the door, he was immediately greeted by a pair of eager arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug.

     “I’m so proud of you, Cas!” Dean exclaimed, releasing his grip on the teen only to give him a sloppy kiss against the side of his face. “You finally stood up for yourself!”

     Castiel was too exhausted to wonder what the demon was doing in his room when he wasn’t even there, especially after pulling a vanishing act since their last encounter.

     “You saw that?” he asked instead, wiping his cheek where the demon had kissed him.

     “You have no idea how much I wanted to step in and rip that guy to pieces… but then you got up and took care of it all on your own!” Dean clapped his hands together excitedly. His tail waved with excitement behind him. “He’ll think twice about messing with you again!”

     Castiel shrugged and fell onto his bed, grunting at the ache in his chest.

     “Yeah, and now I’m suspended from school. What good does that get me?” He fought back the tears that were threatening to spill from his closed eyelids. “My academic records are ruined forever.”

     Dean sat on the bed beside the brunette and brought his feet up on the bed.

     “Oh, who cares about some stupid record?” he grinned. “At least you won’t get bullied anymore. Not by him or anyone else.”

     “Yeah, maybe.” Castiel sat up and squinted at the demon. “Your arm is healed!”

     As if to check himself, Dean curled the arm that had been in the sling and stretched it around.

     “Broken bones are a cinch. I heal much faster than you, remember?” the blonde nudged him in the shoulder. “That black eye is going to take forever to go away.”

     “Don’t remind me.” Castiel groaned, covering the swollen eyelid with his hand.

     “Battle scars.” Dean snickered.

     “Where have you been?” He decided to change the subject, replacing his hand with the ice pack once again. “And why were you watching me at school?”

     Dean pursed his lips to the side and scrunched his brow in deep thought.

     “I wasn’t spying on you, if that’s what you’re asking. I just happened to come visit you when you were getting your face knocked in. I’ve been busy.”

     “What happened with Sam?” Castiel asked.

     “He got in a lot of trouble, that’s what happened.” Dean scratched his head. “He’s being confined to the castle until further notice. Dad was pissed when he found out Sam was hiding out down here. It took forever just to convince him to let me back.”

     “He could stop you?” Dean was so carefree that Castiel had forgotten he was still underage. It hadn’t occurred to him that his father might be angry enough to keep Dean from returning to the human world.

     “He’s not happy, that’s for sure.” Dean sighed.

     “Wonderful. I’m suspended _and_ I have the king of Hell wanting to kill me.” The brunette fell onto his back again, groaning loudly. “Could this day get any worse?”

    “Actually…” the demon trailed off, and Castiel could feel him holding back from saying something. “I was sort of coming back here to ask you…”

     “Ask me _what?_ ” Castiel grumbled. Dean began to fidget on the bed. “ _Spit it out.”_ Castiel snapped.

     “My dad want’s you to join us for dinner tonight!” Dean blurted out. A fierce chill ran down Castiel’s back and he slowly pushed himself into a sitting position, staring straight at Dean with both of his eyes. Even the swollen one was narrowed and serious.

     “He wants me to _join_ you for dinner or he wants to _have_ me for dinner?” he asked calmly, already expecting the latter of the two. He had been frightened to have dinner with Dean’s family _before_ the young prince used his house as a hideout. How did Dean expect him to visit the monster realm knowing that Dean’s father might want to slay him there?

     “Demons don’t eat people, Cas.” the blonde shook his head. “But he sort of insists.” He frowned and rubbed his horn. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t let anything bad happen. He doesn’t want to hurt you or anything, he just wants to… understand.”

     That made sense. Dean’s father almost lost both of his sons to the human world. After hearing the story about his wife being a human and getting killed, it wasn’t surprising that he should be angry with Castiel and the human population in general.

     Castiel groaned louder.

     “Come on, Sam has been dying to see you.” Dean said cheerfully, nudging his friend. “It’ll be fun, and we’d only be gone a little while! Just one demon dinner and then I’ll bring you straight home!” He turned his head downward and stuck his lower lip out beyond his sharp teeth. “Please?”

     Castiel returned the ice pack to his face and turned onto his side, facing his back to Dean.

     “It’s not like I have much of a choice.”

     Seemingly content with this response, Dean decided to leave his friend be for now. He rushed back to his own world to tell Sam that Castiel would be coming to visit, and to his father to announce that Castiel had accepted his offer. Sort of.

     Then he vanished behind his bedroom doors to find something nice to wear, because certainly he wanted to look nice for Castiel’s first visit to the monster realm. And as he dug through his closet in search of something nicer than an outdated traditional tunic that looked something like Link from Castiel’s video game, he pushed all of the negative thoughts from his mind, and that included the man he had accidentally slain in the hospital.


	10. The Dinner Guest (Part II)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The demon king has invited Castiel to dinner in the monster world. Under this request and Dean's persistent bribing, Castiel hesitantly agrees. What kind of horrors await the boy in this strange new world, and what kind of feelings will he struggle with along the way?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to all of my friends and followers who have been keeping up with this story! I've had major writers block lately and I've been super busy with classes. Fortunately, I've finally finished up this chapter and I hope it was worth waiting for! As always, comments and kudos are always appreciated. Follow the official tumblr for this story (demon-ackles) for updates and other things. I love you guys!

     It took a few hours for the swelling to go down, but by mid-afternoon, Castiel was able to fully open both of his eyes. The one on his left was black and blue, but he was grateful that he could see clearly now. The brunette stood in front of the bathroom mirror, brushing a comb through his hair and flattening the wrinkles out of his sweater. Dean would be turning up at any moment to take him to the monster world, and Cas felt like he was waiting to be picked up for a date.

     A date where someone’s father would likely strangle them to death.

     If he didn’t get eaten by something else first.

     Castiel felt nauseous just thinking about what might happen to him. Michael had gone back to work for the evening and he could only hope he would be back home before his brother. It wouldn’t look well to get suspended from school and then be caught sneaking out of the house.

     “You look nice.”

     As always, Dean appeared without warning. He stood behind Castiel in the bathroom, causing the boy to jump. His eyes widened as he studied Dean’s wardrobe in the reflection of the mirror. The blonde was wearing black pants and a collared button up shirt with a tie and a jacket. It looked strange to see his rascal friend dressed so charming, and it made him feel incredibly underdressed.

     “I didn’t realize it was a formal dinner.” Castiel mumbled, dropping his comb and heading for his bedroom.

     “Cas, you look fine.” Dean insisted, grabbing the sleeve of his sweater and pulling him back. “It’s not formal, I just wanted to…” he scratched his head.

     “You wanted to what?” the teen inquired. “Show off your _royal_ wardrobe?” Dean scoffed and dropped his hand from Castiel’s sleeve.

     “I wanted to _impress_ you.” he responded sincerely. Castiel blinked.

     “Oh. Well, consider me impressed, Dean Winchester.” He curled his lips into a smile, and Dean grinned back.

     “I think this is going to be really fun. You can see my room and explore the castle and- oh! You can try dragon milk! But you may not like it...” Dean was thrilled and possibly had been since he first suggested Castiel visit his world a few weeks ago. He wasn’t thinking about his father or why he had summoned Castiel to the monster world in the first place. Cas waited patiently for his friend to stop rambling as he sat on his bed and tied his shoes.

     “You should bring a coat.” the demon suggested. “It’s cold there, being eternal darkness and all. It doesn’t bother us, but it’ll probably be too cold for you. Even Sammy has to wear a coat, and he’s half-demon.”

     The more Dean went on about the monster world, the more it sounded like somewhere Castiel did _not_ want to be. Nonetheless, he grabbed his heaviest jacket and yanked it on over his maroon sweater. He felt like the pillsbury dough boy and the exact opposite of Dean’s formal attire.

     “Are you ready, Cas?” Dean asked, putting his hand out to hold his friend’s. Castiel squeezed it tightly, ignoring the slight scrape of Dean’s claws against his skin. He clamped his eyes shut.

     “I’m ready.” he announced.

     “Then here we go!”

     Everything blurred together and Castiel was relieved that the sudden “whoosh” he felt against his skin only lasted a split second. It was colder than freezing- the bitter air nipped at his skin and chilled him to the bone. He could feel something prickly against his ankles, sticking him through his pant legs and making him itch. Slowly, he dared to pry his eyes open.

     “We could have gone straight in the castle, but I wanted you to see it from a distance.” Dean explained, holding out an arm in marvel of the massive structure in front of them.

     They stood on a hill, overlooking a castle that was at least twelve stories tall, if not larger. It was built entirely out of stone and had intricate patterns around every window and balcony. Above the castle was a brilliant red moon that lit the sky with a dim fiery glow. Castiel stared in awe, looking out across the miles and miles of woodlands beyond the castle, and the rapid river that twisted in the distance, looking as small as a stream. It was phenomenal.

     “It’s… beautiful.” Castiel whispered, forgetting the chill in the bitter air out of mere amazement of his surroundings. “This is your _home?”_ The demon nodded his head and released Castiel’s hand for the first time since their journey.

     “This is it. Welcome to the royal castle, Cas.” It was the first time that Dean sounded relatively proud of his home, and Castiel could understand why. It was a stunning sight.

     “Wow…”

     “Come on, let’s go!” Dean started running down the hill, and Castiel followed him slowly, being cautious where he put his feet in the tall spiny grass and taking twice as long as Dean to get to the bottom. The castle grew larger as they grew closer, and soon he was under its massive shadow, which made him even colder. “You’re officially on royal grounds.” he twisted his head around to announce, waving Castiel closer. “Hurry _up_ , Cas! Or you’re never going to have time to see the whole thing!”

     “The whole thing?” Castiel cooed. He wasn’t sure it was possible to explore every room of such a grand structure. Even if his toes didn’t freeze off first.

     They walked together across a stone bridge and through the threshold of the gate. The grass on this side was greener and neatly trimmed. There were two lines of topiaries lining the walkway, each of them trimmed into strange beasts with bulky muscles and flat faces. He assumed they were hell hounds, the monsters that helped demons steal human souls. Castiel quickly looked down at the path, admiring the stonework under foot instead.

     The official castle doors were heads taller than they were. There were two figures standing guard on either side of the entrance. As they drew closer, Castiel saw they were both disfigured, nasty looking creatures with milky white eyes and curled, uneven fangs in their mouths. Both of them curled their lips into a snarl at the sight of the human and moved to block the doors.

     “Relax, guys.” Dean curled his tail possessively around Castiel’s waist. “This is Cas. He’s my best friend and if any of you lay one of your disgusting hands on him, I’ll have you fed to the gatorsharks.”

     The guards sniffed at him, but did not speak. Castiel couldn’t imagine what a voice from such a repulsive creature would sound like.

     “Would you _move_?” Dean snapped. “ _Dad_ invited him here, for fuck’s sake.”

     Mention of the demon king persuaded the guards to back off, but Castiel could smell their stale breath in his face as he passed.

     “That’s Gromice and Hallard for you. They’re great guardsmen, but _damn_ are they ugly.” Dean snickered. Cas didn’t speak until he was sure the doors were shut firmly behind them.

     “What are they?” he whispered curiously.

     “Gremlins, goblins, I don’t know for sure. They protect the gate and patrol the grounds, but they’re not supposed to come in here. Dad doesn’t like the sight of them.”

     As Dean spoke, Castiel noticed the magnificent foyer he was standing in. The walls were massive, and he could count nine floors from where he stood, which all opened up and lead down a staircase in the center of the foyer. A chandelier made of black candles hung elegantly above the staircase, giving the foyer a dim glow just barely brighter than the strange moon outside. There was a royal blue rug that lead up the staircase and down the hallway into another corridor. Castiel’s strained his eyes to see down the hall, but the candlelight wasn’t bright enough to light the way and it eventually faded into darkness.

     Dean tugged on Castiel’s sleeve, running up the staircase and pulling the human behind. Castiel struggled not to trip on the stairs, relieved when he made it to the top of the staircase without falling.

     “My room is this way!” Dean shouted excitedly, scampering down the hall with his tail wagging behind him. Castiel paused to catch his breath, trudging after him at his own pace. Running up nine stories of stairs had helped him warm up, at least.

     He followed Dean to the right and down a large corridor that was lit by sporadic candles in the crevices of the stone walls. There was an occasional painting on the wall of strange creatures or fields lit by the blood moon, but Castiel didn’t have time to admire them as Dean was quickly rushing him along.

     “These are my quarters.” The demon proudly pushed through a pair of black and gold double doors. Castiel’s jaw dropped in amazement as he stared at the room in front of him. It was a room fit for a king (or at least a prince).

     The first part of Dean’s living quarters was a wide open room made comfortable with a black leather sectional, a small kitchen space, and a stunning sound system. Castiel meandered over to the speakers, tracing his fingers along the front of them and looking at him with raised eyebrows.

     “Don’t give me that look.” the demon sneered. “I didn’t _steal_ it. I saved up my money like a good boy.”

     Castiel continued to explore the room, finding himself suddenly fascinated with this part of Dean’s life. Taking a peek inside a steel refrigerator, he squinted when he saw a stack of pre-packaged meat. He knew Dean liked burgers, but it seemed like an excessive amount to keep in his-

     “Fido!” Dean’s shout echoed through the room at the same time Castiel was thrown to the ground. The blue-eyed teen let out a startled scream when he found himself face to face with another disgusting monster. A strange goo splurted out of its slimy nostrils as it sniffed him furiously. Castiel didn’t dare move as the beast pinned his body to the floor, snorting and growling on top of him. “Fido…” Dean’s voice sounded shaky. “Fido, no!”

     _This is it,_ thought Castiel as he took in his last breath of air- one that reeked of a dog’s mouth. _This is how I’m going to die._ He prepared to feel the beast’s jaws around his throat, but the pain never came.

     The hell hound snorted once more before its glowing eyes widened and a long serpentlike tongue slithered out from between its teeth. It began to slurp eagerly at Castiel’s face, lathering his cheek with saliva.

     Dean began to chuckle, and then broke into a fit of laughter. Cas remained on the ground, motionless and horrified.

     “He likes you!” Dean squawked. “I’ve never seen anything like it! A hell hound liking a human! He doesn’t even like Sam!” The hell hound licked at Castiel’s face until its owner eventually pushed it to the side. Dean helped the human to his feet, still chortling at the amount of saliva on Castiel’s rosy cheeks. “I can’t believe it. You must be real special, Cas.”

     Castiel rubbed at his face with his sleeve, too stunned to respond. He felt like his life was still flashing before his eyes.

     Dean tugged him towards another room, separated from the living space by another set of black and gold doors. Inside this room was a bed larger than any bed Castiel had ever seen, and it was made elegantly with silk bedsheets and a comforter that looked like real fur. There were more pillows on Dean’s bed then there were in Castiel’s house.

     “You have a bed this big and you chose to squeeze into mine?” Castiel gawked. The demon shrugged his pointy shoulders.

     “Yours is a lot warmer.” he commented.

     “Yeah but… Dean, this place… you’re really turning away from _all this_ -” he waved towards the bed and the rest of the magnificent room, “-to play video games and read comic books?”

     Dean’s smile faltered.

     “Cas, it’s more than that.” He reached up to rub his horn shyly. “I like it down there with you. It’s a lot more fun.”

     “Fun and responsibility don’t necessarily go hand in hand.” Castiel scolded, being the voice of reason that he always was. “You have a lot going for you here. You’re a _prince,_ Dean.”

     Dean waved him off with his hand, dismissing the argument. He reached forward with both hands and gave Castiel’s back a shove, throwing him on top of the bed. Face buried in the furry blanket, the brunette let out a quiet grunt and then a noise of content. He felt like he was lying face down on a cloud.

     “Not bad, eh?” he grinned. “It’s real werewolf fur.”

     “Stop being a show-off.” Cas answered, sitting up after realizing the blanket had been someone’s fur. “It’s not an attractive trait, you know.”

     Dean looked perplexed. An episode of emotions flickered across his face and left him with a devious, twisted smile.

     “Are you saying that you think I’m attractive, Castiel?”

     Blue eyes blinked and the boy began to panic.

     “N-no! Are you crazy?” Castiel knotted his fingers together and looked away from Dean’s beady eyes and his shark-like smile. “Don’t be… don’t be stupid.”

     Dean didn’t give his friend the chance to flee from his confrontation. He hovered over the boy, standing between his legs and leaning him onto his back until he was pinning Cas underneath him. Castiel’s breathing went shallow and quick and his eyes never left the demon’s.

     “W-what are you doing?” he whispered.

     “Are you lying, Castiel?” Dean narrowed his eyes into slits of black and gave a tiny sniff with his nostrils. “I can smell your fear.”

     “I… I….” Castiel trembled beneath the other boy. Dean’s lips curled upwards as his friend became flustered. Blue eyes dilated as black ones came nearer, until Dean’s mouth was just centimeters from Castiel’s.

     They were interrupted by a quiet cough behind them. The demon jumped to his feet and spun around, his brows furrowed at the servant that had quietly entered his bedroom. It was a small balding man with pointed ears and a thin, straggly beard. His eyes were the size of Castiel’s, clearly surprised by whatever he had walked in on.

     And what exactly _had_ he walked in on?

     “The King is expecting you and your guest in the dining hall, sire.” the small man announced in a frail old voice. “Forgive me for interrupting.” He scurried out of the room before either of the boys could respond, and the muted sound of the doors closing could be heard a moment later.

     Castiel, now freed from his position on the bed, quickly got up and adjusted his clothes. Dean was wandering lazily towards his balcony now, like he had lost interest in whatever was happening between them before. Cas stood uncomfortably in the middle of the room, holding his arms close to himself.

     “That was Savoy.” Dean said, his explanation a slight delay. “He’s one of the oldest servants in the castle.”

     Castiel acknowledged the introduction but his mind was racing in another direction, the memory of Dean’s hot breath still flashing through his head. The demon didn’t seem to be bothered by the disruption. He grabbed the puffy sleeve of Castiel’s coat and dragged him out of the room and through his living quarters again. Fido lifted its head as they passed, snorting when neither of them bent down to give it a pet.

     Castiel was speechless as Dean led the way back down the staircase to the foyer and then through a pattern of elegantly-decorated corridors. The last hallway opened up into a grand room, furnished with one long table surrounded by chairs. This room had a tall arched ceiling and colored glass murals decorating every window around the room. There were paintings of demons wearing armor, grotesque monsters, and stunning scenery, including the blood red moon. Castiel focused his attention on the murals instead of the horned man who sat all the way at the end of the dining table, in a chair that was fit to be a throne.

     “Castiel Novak.” a booming voice called from the head of the table. The brunette shivered from more than just the cold. The man was much larger than an average adult, with muscles protruding from beneath his robes and horns twice as big as Dean’s curling round and round on the sides of his head. A long, spiny tail lay on the ground near him, and it twitched occasionally.

     The king beckoned him closer with a hooked claw.

     Dean and Castiel walked together down the side of the table and as they drew closer, the demon king only seemed to grow larger. Castiel felt like a child as he approached the dining throne, twirling his fingers in front of him.

     “H-hello.” he whispered. The demon king was amused by Castiel’s timidness. He reached an arm out, offering his clawed hand to the boy. When he didn’t move, John Winchester leaned back and retracted his hand.

     “Forgive me… I thought that is how humans greeted one another.” When John smiled, his mouth had even sharper teeth than his son's. Flustered, Castiel quickly shot his hand out.

     “I-I’m sorry!” he stuttered. “W-we do, but y-you’re a king, and I didn’t want to…” he trailed off, realizing that he sounded quite pitiful.

     “You didn’t want to offend me.” John finished, lifting his hand once again. “How respectful of you.”

     The demon king’s hand was twice the size of Castiel’s and the boy tried not to wince when muscular fingers tightened around his hand and squeezed with all the strength of a monster. He stared down at the gold metal gloves that reinforced the king’s claws.

     “How interesting…” John smiled, holding the boy’s tiny human hand for a moment longer. “So small and fragile..." he trailed off, and Castiel got a sudden chill.”What a nice friend you have, Dean.” he added loudly, releasing the boy’s hand and motioning for him to sit. “Come. Have a seat. Dinner will be served shortly.”

     Castiel looked at Dean, who hadn’t spoken since they entered the room. For the first time, he was able to see a strong resemblance between Dean and his father. For a split second he worried that Dean would eventually grow to be that big. Dean took the seat nearest to his father, and Castiel sat on the other side of his horned friend.

     “Have you seen your brother, Dean?” John asked in a careful tone, looking expectantly at the blonde. Dean shrugged.

     “Not since I got home. He was studying, earlier.”

     Castiel didn’t want to ask about what kind of punishment Sam received for running away from the castle. It seemed like both Dean and his father were hesitant to mention his name.

     "He's going to miss dinner." John snorted out just as the double wide doors opened and several small creatures with pointed ears and purple eyes scurried out of another room, carrying an assortment of trays and dishes. They swarmed around the table like flies, setting the table with extravagant glasses and dishware. Castiel watched as two plates were set in front of him, one glass and one goblet, as well as a crystal bowl to his right and a folded napkin.

     There was no silverware.

     One of the little elf-like creatures removed the lid from the center dish to reveal a handsomely sized roast. The pig, which looked more like a small boar, was presented on its back with a glossy red apple in its mouth and black pits where its eyes would have been. Castiel grimaced.

     Other dishes included strange fruits, vegetables, and roots that Castiel did not recognize. Some of the plants had barbs and spines and there was a tangy, spicy scent coming from a pile of red-orange fruit in the corner. A thick, dark red substance was poured into a quarter of the glass in front of him, while the goblet was filled with a murky grey juice with a strange odor.

     Castiel suddenly understood why Dean enjoyed human cuisine so much. This spread of food looked unappetizing, if not frightening.

     "Don't be scared." Dean whispered into his ear. "It looks worse than it tastes, I promise."

     Dean's words were comforting but did not take away the pit of anxiety in his gut. The elves began to serve them, placing slices and chunks of fruit onto one plate and a giant slab of boar on the other. He fought the urge to vomit when he saw blood dripping from the meat like grease.

     Dean picked up his own portion of meat with his hand, taking a furious bite from the tender meat. A few droplets of blood splattered across the table cloth as he tore a chunk off with his teeth. At the front of the table, John was already slurping the juices of a spiny fruit.

     When Dean realized Castiel hadn't eaten yet, he leaned over and pointed at a piece of purple fruit.

     "You'd like that one. It's really sweet and soft... like a giant grape."

     Hearing that, Castiel was more willing to test the suspicious fruit. He held the purple ball with both hands, leaning in to take a nibble. Flavor exploded against his taste buds and juice squirted from his mouth. Dean chuckled, but Cas shot him a stern look.

     Castiel didn't want to try the main course, but he could feel John's eyes on him. He poked uneasily at his meat. The discomfort lessened when the doors opened again and the younger Winchester came shuffling across the room. He sat across from Dean at a place that was already set for him.

     "Hey, Sammy." Dean greeted with a friendly wave of his bloodied hand. Sam averted his eyes and did not answer his brother. Castiel frowned, feeling responsible for the discomfort between the two brothers. Sam picked up a utensil resembling a fork, only it had two prongs instead of four. He used this to stab into his meat and a small blade to cut it into bite size pieces.

     "Aren't you gonna eat, Cas?" Dean piped, nudging him in the side. "Do you feel sick?"

     "No, I'm okay." Castiel insisted. "I'm just not very hungry."

     "Nonsense." John joined the conversation. "I insist you try the boar, Castiel." The boy barely caught the glimpse of smugness on the demon king's face before he looked directly at him. "I insist." he repeated.

     Castiel had no other choice. Pushing aside his disgust, he reached over with stiff fingers and picked up his portion of meat. Black eyes stared at him intensely as he leaned forward and timidly sunk his teeth into it.

     His first impression was that the meat was extremely rubbery. It was hard to take a bite out of it, and the more he tried to chew and tug a piece off, the more blood dribbled down from his hands and down his chin. When he did finally tear a bite off, he chewed it several times before he was able to swallow it.

     Fortunately, the boar was well seasoned with spices and herbs that masked the rusty flavor of blood. Quickly wiping his face and hands with his napkin, Castiel decided that the meat wasn't as bad as he anticipated. In fact, it was actually pretty flavorful and tasty.

     "Well?" John raised his brow expectantly.

     "It's good." Castiel nodded. Dean seemed to let out a sigh of relief beside him.

     "Try the spiderfruit next!" he exclaimed, pointing at a vivid blue fruit on his other plate. There were little sacs of purple dotting the skin, and Castiel could see tiny critters crawling about inside of them. The brunette politely sampled each of the fruits, eating around the strange sacs, spines, and fuzzy spots. Everything he tasted had a brand new flavor and he enjoyed many of them.

     When it came time to take a drink, Castiel peered into the goblet of murky juice. Dean had already downed half of his own goblet without wincing, so he decided to take a few gulps to wash down a clump of boar. He was startled by the taste and quickly spat it out across the table. All eyes turned to the human as he wiped his mouth, and he felt suddenly embarrassed.

     "Oh...I forgot to warn you about that..." Dean mumbled, scratching his horn. "That's uh... snapping salmon urea."

     Castiel choked louder than he had when he actually drank the substance.

     "Snapping… salmon? You just let me drink fish pee?" he demanded. The blonde chuckled and shrugged, while Sam stifled a laugh from across the table.

     "It's very good for your digestive system." The younger Winchester pointed out in an informational tone. "There are several chemicals in snapping salmon urea that flush out your system of toxins. It's especially good for demons who eat a lot of untreated meat."

     Castiel reached for the other glass, the one that was filled with a quarter of red liquid. When he lifted the glass, it sloshed around and left a thick ring where it had been. He cringed.

     "Please don't tell me that this is-"

     "Blood?" Dean interrupted. "No, don't worry. They wouldn't serve something like that with dinner. That's a thick mulberry wine." The blonde lifted his own glass and took a sip. "You might like it."

     "Wine?" Castiel cooed. Michael had never allowed Castiel to drink wine before, and the idea of drinking had never particularly crossed his mind. He peered over at the king, who was still watching him with unblinking dark eyes. He quickly took a sip.

     The flavor was sweet and then extremely bitter. He sloshed the drink around in his mouth before swallowing it down, enjoying the strange taste on his lips. Dean did the same, taking a few sips and then finishing his portion of boar.

     Halfway through dinner, Sam offered to trade plates with Castiel so that the human could have the bite-size pieces he had cut up. Castiel thanked him graciously, finding it much easier to eat when he could fit the food into his mouth. He made small talk with Dean and listened to Sam go on for several minutes about a new bit of magic he had been practicing. Castiel paid attention to the boy, especially since he seemed to be speaking directly to him. Any time Dean or John would try to say anything to the boy, he would shut his mouth and return to sulking and staring at his plate.

     Eventually, John leaned back and cracked his fingers.

     "So, Castiel. How do you like this world so far?" he asked smoothly. The boy finished his glass of wine, deciding not to risk the grey liquid again.

     "It's very nice." he smiled. "Thank you for inviting me here." He did have to thank King Winchester for inviting him to the monster world, because otherwise he never would have seen it for himself. Knowing where Dean came from gave him an insight about the demon’s life and what he was choosing to leave behind. He could never imagine turning away a life like Dean had in this world.

     If he was a demon, that is.

     “Please, tell me.” The King went on, scratching his claws along the stubble on his jaw. “You've known Dean for several years... how do you manage to keep his _appearance_ in confidentiality?" His dark eyes scraped over to his elder son, who was fixing him with a similar stare.

     Unsure how to answer, the boy shifted in his chair uncomfortably.

     "I mean... at first he was careful not to come around anyone else." Castiel mumbled. The demon king raised his brow, clearly expecting more of an explanation. The boy went on. "It's a lot easier now since he knows how to look like... well..." He glanced over at his friend, whose head was angled slightly to the left. "...less like himself." Castiel finished.

     "You mean like _you._ " John concluded with a lazy wave of his metal claws. "A human." Cas dipped his head slightly. There was tension between the king and the elder prince and an uncomfortable silence fell over the table again.

     "Hey Castiel." Sam interjected. "I bet I could make that bruise go away." He was pointing at the black and blue bruises that painted his eye.

     "Er, no." the boy squeaked. "Thanks, but I don't think my brother would understand if I left with a black eye and magically came home without one."

     "Ah, and where did you retrieve this injury?" John inquired cooly. "Did you indulge in a vicious fight?"

     "Er, no." Cas repeated. At the same time, Dean shouted: "He sure did!" John was expecting another explanation by the scathing look in his eyes. Across the table, Sam had slunk down in his chair again, disappointed that he had been interrupted. "I mean, I did fight someone, but it was out of self-defense. He ruined one of my textbooks and..." The demon king scoffed, unimpressed, and Castiel trailed off.

     "Tell me about your family." John continued. "You mentioned a brother?" Cas wasn't sure why the king of the monster world wanted to know about his home life, but he couldn't see any bad coming from it.

     "I have two brothers and a sister." Castiel began hesitantly, twisting his fingers in the fabric of his coat.

     "No father? Mother?" John pushed on. The brunette felt a tug at the mental barrier that was in place to protect him from thoughts of his parents. He hadn't been asked about them in quite a time. There was a comforting hand on his arm below the table. Dean was watching him with a steady smile.

     "No." Cas whispered, taking a short but deep breath to collect himself. "It's just us. Michael raised us since we were kids. My other brother moved away, and my sister is going to become an artist." Talking about his siblings reminded him how lucky he was. Despite a few confrontations with Gabriel, he got along surprisingly well with his siblings nowadays. Unfortunately Dean and Sam couldn't say the same, and John didn't seem like the perfect father figure either.

     "How do you plan on supporting your family when you are of age?" John asked carefully. This question surprised Castiel. He hadn't given much thought as to what he would do as a career, much less what he would do to support a family.

     Did he even want a family?

     "Cas works at a book store." Dean answered for him casually. "He's just a kid, Dad. I don't think he knows what he wants to do for the rest of his life yet."

     Castiel was relieved when his friend answered for him. He stared down at his plate, at a little pool of juices that had been left behind from the slice of boar. All of these questions were making his head spin. Why was Dean's father so concerned with his life story?

     "Hey Castiel!" Sam piped in again. "If you like books, you should see the library! It's my favorite room in the castle, and it's got every spell book you could ever imagine!" The child had become easily excited.

     Cas smiled softly. "We have a library too. But we have books full of stories and fairy tales and things you can imagine in your head." He paused. "Maybe some time I'll let you borrow some."

     Sam's eyes widened.

     “R-really? You’d do that?”

     “That won’t be necessary, Castiel.” John barked, startling the boy and making Sam grumble miserably. He should have known that the demon king would object to letting Sam read human books. "I don't think I have to remind you that you have studies to attend to." the king added to his youngest son. "Have you mastered that transfiguration spell yet?"

     Castiel tried to give Sam an apologetic smile, but the boy's head was hung low and he was mumbling under his breath.

     Sam climbed to his feet.

     "See you later, Castiel." he frowned, letting out a huff of air and disappearing out of the corridor he had entered from. Castiel watched him leave with a sorry expression.

     Once Sam had left the room, the demon king turned his coal-like eyes back to Castiel and fixed him with a cold stare.

     "So, Castiel. You must be wondering why I invited you here." John said slowly. The boy felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight at the sound of the king's smooth, slithering voice. The brunette did not answer, unsure of what assumptions to make about John and whatever reason he _did_ have for inviting a young human to his domain.

     “I’ve been waiting to meet you for a while.” John went on, clenching and unclenching his claws. “The timing has never been quite… opportune.”

     “Bullshit.” Dean grumbled. “You told me downright that you didn’t want a human here.”

     “I’m the _king of hell,_ son. I’m allowed to change my mind.” the man smiled devilishly. “In turn of recent events, I believe I have to thank you.” John was speaking directly to Castiel now, making him wiggle uncomfortably in his seat.

     “For what?” Blue eyes narrowed slightly. John’s finger flicked towards the seat where Sam had been seated before. The strange elves were already clearing his dishes away.

     “You found my son and kept him safe until he could be taken home. I’ve never feared anything more than losing one of my boys.” His pitiful frown seemed too cheesy to be real, but Castiel kept a straight face.

     “He sort of found _me._ ” he emphasized, though the king ignored him and waved his hand.

     “Either way, this dinner was in your honor, child. I can only hope that your kindness won’t be necessary in the future.”

     Before Dean could turn his head to give his father a suspicious look, the demon king had risen from his seat and announced that dinner was over. Briefly, the king thanked Castiel for coming. As the kitchen elves hurried in to clear the table, Dean took Castiel’s hand and led him out of the room, down a different corridor than the one they had come in from.

     “That wasn’t so bad.” he piped, wiping his mouth of any residue with the sleeve of his coat. He pushed his glasses up on his nose, admiring a new set of artwork on the walls he walked past. “Your father seems nice. I can’t believe he held that dinner for me.”

     “Maybe he doesn’t hate you after all.” Dean’s tail thwacked back and forth, occasionally smacking into Castiel’s leg like a thin whip. He attempted to change the subject. “Do you want to see the rest of the castle?”

     Castiel stopped walking, slid his hand out of Dean’s, and turned to face him.

     “Hold on.” he said before taking in a deep breath. There was something that had been bothering Castiel through the entire dinner, and it hadn’t just been John Winchester’s spiny, slithering tail.  “What was that before? In the bedroom?”

     Black eyes twinkled deviously, but Dean’s lips were pursed in deep thought.

     “Hmm… what are you talking about? The part where I almost kissed you, or the part where you got turned on by it?”

     Castiel’s face blushed furiously and he looked away.

     “Why would you try to kiss me?” he asked.

     Dean’s tail continued to flick back and forth, tapping against the stone wall like the ticking of a clock. Castiel counted the seconds that passed without a word.

     “You’re cute when you blush like that.” the demon finally answered. He drew closer to the boy and curled an arm around his waist.

     “No!” Cas squealed, wiggling out of grasp and leaning back against the opposite wall of the hallway. “You can’t just- you can’t just do that!” he shouted.

     Dean tilted his head.

     “Why not? I thought we were friends, Cas.”

     “Friends don’t… they don’t do that!” Castiel’s face flushed a furious shade of red. “O-only couples kiss each other. People who are dating. People who like each other and go on dates and spend all their time together and cheer each other up and-”

     The more he went on, the more he realized that the friendship he had with Dean Winchester was the definition of “more than friends”.

     “What’s your point?” Dean furled his tail with interest. “Why can’t we be a couple?” His blatant question highlighted how naive the demon was on the subject of dating. Castiel hid his face in his hands, feeling the heat rush to his cheeks once again. “ _What_?” Dean demanded, a hint of amusement in his voice. “What did I say now?”

     “D-Dean.” the boy murmured from behind his hands. “Do you… do you love me?”

     Castiel’s hands were pulled away from his mouth and replaced with the cool, comforting lips of Dean Winchester.

     “I dunno.” Dean purred deeply in his throat. “But I loved doing that.”

 

* * *

  
  
**Art by: Doodle-ing**   


 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to doodle-ing on tumblr for the lovely fanart!!! It's lovely! If you'd like your fanart featured in this story, please send me a link to the picture either through here or through tumblr. Thank you guys so much for your support, and stay tuned for more!


	11. Mates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel isn't sure how to be a good mate, and quite frankly, neither does Dean. Meanwhile, Michael is keeping a secret that Castiel and Anna aren't too happy about. And what about Dean's deal with the ruffian demon girl, Meg?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy beejeesus it's been a while. I'm terrible at this updating thing. As always, a huge thank you with many hugs for those of you who have been diligently following this fanfic. You guys are my inspiration and I love you. I don't have any excuses not to be updating more frequently, except that I keep having mild cases of writer's block. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy Chapter 11, and don't worry, there is still plenty more to come. If you're one of those artistic folks, feel free to submit artwork to be posted at the end of the next chapter. I always like to hear what you guys have to say in the comments section. If you've got a tumblr, follow my personal blog (fuchsia-light) and the official Under My Bed blog (demon-ackles).

     After their initial kiss, Dean immediately suggested the idea of being mates. (Now, Castiel had no idea what the difference was between a boyfriend and a mate, but Dean seemed confident that they meant the same thing). Castiel agreed. They kissed again in the hallway of the castle, and several times after that until Castiel _insisted_ that he had to get home. Begrudgingly, Dean agreed to return Castiel to the human world so he didn’t get in trouble with Michael.

     But that didn’t mean that Dean couldn’t stay there with him.

     It had been a while since Dean had slept at Castiel’s house. With the distance that they had previously put between them, Castiel had expected never to share a bed with the demon boy again. He was eager to slip into his pajama pants and brush his teeth, hoping that Michael would hear him in the bathroom and know that he hadn’t snuck out after his “unofficial” punishment. He could hear his eldest brother moving around downstairs. A moment later, the TV turned on and the voices of an eighties re-run echoed down the hall. They would be safe.

     When he flicked the light off, the demon was already laying underneath the blankets. The brunette felt a strange warmth in his chest at the thought of climbing into bed with Dean Winchester once again.

     As soon as he lifted the blankets, cold hands grabbed his waist and pulled him in. He closed his eyes and made a soft noise at the chill of Dean’s cold torso holding against his own. The blanket made a warm sanctuary for the two of them, though Dean’s body temperature was enough to keep him from getting overheated.

     “Where’s Michael?” Dean asked in quiet hiss. His breath was surprisingly close to Castiel’s ear.

     “Downstairs. He’s watching TV.” he answered quickly. Dean’s cold hands on his waist never seemed to get any warmer, but Castiel moved closer to him anyway. There were soft lips against the straight edge of his jaw, kissing and nipping at the skin there. The human had never realized how cold Dean’s lips were until they were kissing lower, down his throat and across the front of his torso. It felt as if someone was brushing an ice cube along his skin. Cas parted his lips and gasped when he felt these lips around his nipple.

     Encouraged by this sound, Dean’s slimy tongue curled and dragged across the sensitive nub.

     Castiel had never been touched by anyone in this way. Part of him was so embarrassed that he wanted Dean to stop. The other part of him never wanted the tingling feeling of his skin to end.

     Dean’s head disappeared beneath the blanket completely, though his horns created somewhat of a tent. Castiel could only guess what surprises would be coming next from the demon boy. Those icy lips were traveling lower, pausing at the line of his pajama bottoms.

     Castiel felt a twitch of arousal.

     “In my world...” Dean began to speak in a husky, low voice that was masked under the blanket. “When a demon chooses their mate, they have several days of intense sexual intercourse.”

     Castiel coughed.

_Several days? Intense?_

     Before he could think to protest, Dean didn’t give him the opportunity to respond. He was moving underneath the blanket, suddenly mounting the boy’s lap and crouching over him like a hungry tiger. Eyes ablaze with surprise at the sudden friction against his groin, Castiel grabbed the front of Dean’s shirt.

     “Dean, I’ve never-”

     “Shhhh.” The demon held up his finger in front of Castiel’s lips, silencing him gently. “You just relax, Cas. You don’t have to do anything. Just let me show you how its done.” He began to slide down again, parting his lips and leaving a long trail of cool saliva down the front of his bare chest.

     Relaxing underneath a horny demon was easier said than done. Castiel was still twitching, trapped between arousal and guilt. He was only fifteen. Before that night, he had never even been kissed. The idea of _receiving oral sex from a demon with a mouth full of razor sharp teeth_ -

     Castiel shot into a sitting position, knocking the excited demon away with forceful hands. Heart pounding out of his chest, the boy found it hard to catch his breath. Dean looked concerned and mildly confused.

     "What's wrong, Cas?"

     "I... I can't." The boy quickly wiped his chest with the blanket, holding it against himself and reaching over to grab the stuffed bear that usually sat somewhere on his bed. "I... just can't."

     Dean masked his disappointment and settled down beside Castiel, watching him stressfully squeeze the bear between his fingers. In all of the excitement, he hadn't stopped to wonder how Castiel's anxiety would be affected in their new relationship.

     "Aw, geez Cas. I'm sorry." The demon grumbled, looking slightly flustered himself.

     As Castiel gripped the plush bear to calm himself, Dean waited patiently to hear confirmation that the boy was alright. It was a stressful few minutes, and a thin black tail twisted anxiously against the blankets. Eventually Castiel relaxed, apologizing profusely for his discomfort as he pulled on a pajama shirt, which was either because of Dean’s cold body against his own, or for the protection against further sexual tension that evening.

     Castiel didenjoy when the blonde wrapped an arm lazily over his torso and hugged him loosely under the sheets. They had slept like that dozens of times in the past, draped in each other’s presence and without a single care. Somehow, it felt different now.

     With the bear still stuffed between them, Castiel nuzzled his nose into Dean’s collarbone and let out a tiny sigh. The bed was suddenly smaller than he remembered it being before.

     “You okay?” Dean asked carefully. The grip on the back of Castiel’s pajama shirt tightened as he waited for a response. “I didn’t mean to scare you, Cas.” His hesitation was clear and his guilt was genuine.

     “I know… and you didn’t.” Castiel couldn’t describe how Dean had made him feel when his cold teeth were dragging tauntingly across his bare skin. Besides feeling sick at the thought of those sharp teeth around his naughty bits, he was overwhelmed with the feeling of being _wanted_. Affection was a feeling that Castiel was not used to, and Dean’s spontaneous want to matewith him was nothing less of wild in his mind. He’d never even thought about kissing someone. Now Dean was trying to give him a blow job while his brother was right downstairs on the couch. Even after sharing a bed with Dean for years, he never thought he would be laying in bed with Dean as his partner _._

“Do you still want to be a couple?” Dean pestered, nudging Castiel’s forehead with the tip of his nose. His naive question made the brunette laugh, and he wiggled closer to the demon’s cool skin. Although he had been startled by Dean’s erotic behavior, he quickly remembered how nice it had been to kiss him in the hallway.

     “Yes please.”

     Dean seemed content with this answer and he turned on his back, settling his head down against the pillow.

     “Well good. We can have sex whenever. There’s a ton of other things mates do. There’s the mating feast and the mating dance and the gift-days of mating and the-”

     Castiel silenced his friend by reaching over and smacking his hand against his shoulder. The sudden movement was enough to make Dean stop rambling, though he did let out a stifled chuckle. The two of them quieted, repositioning themselves in the bed until they were comfortable. Castiel found the most worn in spot on his mattress where he usually lay and sighed contently when he turned onto his side, sinking into the bed and pulling the blanket up to his chin (a habit he never dropped from his childhood). He could hear the demon fidgeting in the bed beside him, obviously trying to find his own comfortable spot, and without succeeding. Eventually, Dean’s wiggling stopped and he let out a heavy huff of breath, laying where he was and staying there for the rest of the night. Although they were not laying in each other’s arms, Castiel was content, and somehow, Dean was too.

 

 

     For the rest of the week, Castiel felt particularly unsettled in the way that he was no longer able to follow his daily routine. Being suspended from school, Castiel had no reason to set his morning alarm. Without his alarm, he slept in until early afternoon, skipping breakfast completely and lunch if he wasn’t feeling hungry. Dean, being the kind-hearted demon that he was, would let Castiel sleep as long as he wanted and spent the morning in his own world instead. When the demon did decide to grace the Novak household with his presence, he found Castiel with an unmistakable bed-head, still clad in his striped pajamas, and stumbling around the kitchen with a gallon of milk in one hand and a half-eaten bowl of cereal in the other, despite the clock on the wall reading half past four in the afternoon. Even worse, the brunette was often grumbling and adamant about refusing any consoling hugs from his mate.

     Eventually, Dean realized that a Castiel without a proper routine was not a pleasant Castiel at all.

     As any concerned mate would do, Dean decided to bring Castiel gifts to brighten his day. He began with the shrunken heads: the clearest, most endearing gift from his world. Shrunken heads were meant to protect those you love from any negativity and misfortune.

     Needless to say, Castiel was too disturbed by the shriveled head to think of its symbolism. After his initial terrified shout, he grabbed the head by its little ponytail and threw it into the trash can. Dean tried not to seem disappointed and shrugged off Castiel’s wild reaction. The shrunken head _was_ a little creepy.

     Next, Dean brought him a glass of dragon milk. It surely wasn’t as sweet as cow’s milk, but he thought Castiel might like to give it a try, especially since he liked the roast boar and most of the exotic fruits he had tried. Unfortunately, Castiel had left the glass unattended on the counter while he went to the bathroom, and a very thirsty Anna had swallowed it down instead. The redhead made an awful sort of sound and wretched in the sink, shouting something about the milk being spoiled.

     In one final attempt to bring joy to Castiel’s day, Dean brought him a lionmouse. He stuck the ridiculously furry rodent in a little cage and set it on Castiel’s homework desk, leaving it there for him to discover. When the boy awoke to the sounds of scuttling and miniature roaring, he was pleasantly surprised with the interesting little critter in his bedroom. Dean clapped his hands together with the satisfaction that he had finally found a nice gift for his mate.

     “It’s a lionmouse.” he eagerly explained, leaning against the desk and sticking his finger between the bars of the cage. “They’re as close to a domestic pet as we’ve got. This little guy was living in the kitchen back home… I guess that makes him sort of like a _royal_ pet, yeah?”

     Castiel, through tired-eyed and groggy from waking up so late, was smiling happily.

     “He’s great, Dean.” Those words were enough to warm Dean’s cold interior. “I think we have some carrots in the fridge.”

     Dean winced and yanked his hand away from the cage, nursing a freshly-bitten finger with his other hand. His index finger was gushing an unusual amount of blood from a deep gouge in his skin.

     “Heh… heh…” he trailed off, feeling Castiel’s eyes gaze over him uncertainly. “Well you see, lionmice are strictly carnivores. A pound of pork or so should keep him fed for the day.”

     Dean’s grin was unmistakably one of guilt. He was well aware that he had brought Castiel a meat-eating pet, which was probably more than the fifteen year old could handle at this point. “But don’t worry!” he quickly said, putting a hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “I’ll help you take care of him, okay?”

     Castiel sighed, and it was unclear whether or not Dean’s words were comforting or not.

 

 

     The weekend couldn’t come fast enough; Michael was leaving on a short business trip and left Castiel and Anna with a generous wad of money on the kitchen table (“in case of emergencies” he said). Anna had invited Charlie over from next door, warning Castiel to keep Dean under control if he would be visiting. Explaining monsters to Anna had been difficult enough, so they decided to keep Dean’s secret between the three of them.

     Castiel worked Friday afternoon and returned that night to a surprising voicemail from Gabriel Novak. Every once and a while, Gabriel would call the house to check in with them, occasionally asking for money from Michael. Castiel hadn’t seen his rambunctious brother since the previous Thanksgiving, when he announced that he and Balthazar were engaged.

     Michael, being the adamant Christian that he was, went through several minutes of disbelief before he had exploded into anger. The two eldest Novak brothers fought furiously, and needless to say, the turkey went cold that night. Castiel avoided the conflict by hiding in his bedroom.

     He hadn’t heard much of Gabriel since Michael disowned him from the family.

     When he pressed the button on the answering machine, he was shocked to hear his brother’s voice on the other line, sounding as cheery as always.

     _“Hey guys, it’s me again. I don’t know if you’re still ignoring my calls, but the wedding is this weekend and it’d be really cool if you guys could be there.”_ There was a pause in the recording, and the sound of shuffling on the other end of the line. _“I, uh, miss you guys. Balthazar’s whole family is going to be there. It’s going to be on the beach- you know, the one we used to go to as kids?”_ Castiel felt a twinge of pain, tied to a fond memory of being young and playing in the sand with his parents. _“Anyway, the ceremony is on Saturday. Maybe I’ll see you guys there.”_ Gabriel hung up without a proper goodbye, leaving Castiel standing uncertainly in the middle of the kitchen.

     Michael had told them that Gabriel hadn’t called since Thanksgiving. From the sound of Gabriel’s voicemail, he had been trying to get ahold of them for a while. It made Castiel a little sad to think that Michael would delete his brother’s voicemails and lie about it. As much as Castiel feared his brother as a child, he still cared deeply for him, and his wedding wasn’t something that he could merely forget.

     “Hey, Cas.” Dean wandered in from the hallway, finding the boy pondering in the kitchen. “How was work?” His cold hands snaked around Castiel’s waist from behind. His lack of claws told him that Dean was in his human form. He was being cautious, in case Charlie came downstairs.

     Castiel turned to look at the blonde; a strange expression on his face.

     “Have you ever been to the beach, Dean?” he asked. Dean furrowed his brow thoughtfully and dropped his arms.

     “We don’t really have beaches.” he said. Dean knew what a beach was because he had seen them in comic books and read stories about romantic getaways on the beach. The closest thing that the monster world had to a beach was the marshes, which were hardly pleasant.

     "We should go." the boy suggested. He set the phone back on its stand and leaned against the counter, grabbing an apple and gripping it between his hands. "Michael isn't home. You and I can go, can't we?"

     Dean perched himself on the counter next to Castiel, looking down sideways at him.

     "Yeah, sure, Cas! I've always wanted to see the beach." Dean was willing to do anything to please Castiel, especially after the dull week that they had spent together. Although Castiel had no way of knowing this, the first week of becoming mates was full of ceremonies that they had not taken part in. Dean was patient and willing to wait for Castiel's sake, but going on a romantic getaway to the beach sounded like a nice change of pace. "But why the sudden vacation?"

     His question brought a frown to Castiel's face, and Dean became defensive, hopping down from the counter and standing in front of him with a worried glisten in his eyes.

     "My brother is getting married tomorrow." Castiel admitted hesitantly, rocking on his heels and avoiding eye contact.

     "Michael?" Dean gasped.

     "No, Gabriel." the boy quickly corrected him, shaking his head. "Do you remember him? It's been a few years since you saw him."

     "Oh, yeah." The demon snorted, his shoulders relaxing. "I remember him. He's the asshole that used to pick on you."

     Castiel nodded and lifted his gaze.

     "Michael disowned him last November when he came out." he went on, twiddling his fingers.

     "Came out of what?" Dean blinked cluelessly.

     "The closet!" Castiel was stifling a chuckle.

     "I come out of your closet all the time!" Dean exclaimed with humor, feeding off of Castiel's sudden smile.

     "I meant he's _gay,_ Dean." the boy elaborated. "A homosexual. A queer. He's marrying another guy." His chuckling faded off quickly, knowing that the demon understood.

     "Like us?"

     "Yes, like us." Castiel sighed. "Michael doesn't think it's right, so he said Gabriel isn't part of the family anymore."

     Dean scratched his head.

     "Why not?"

     "He says it's against the Bible." Castiel murmured, sounding even more distant from the conversation.

     "Tch." The blonde crossed his arms. "That's a stupid reason to kick someone out of the family. That dumbass book is always causing problems for you humans. In my world, you can mate with whoever the hell you want, man or bullcock."

     Castiel set down the uneaten apple and sunk down to the floor, curling his knees up to his chest and letting out a heavy sigh.

     "I just... I think we should go. No one else is going to be there and..."

     "Hey, it's okay." Dean smiled, leaning down and setting his gentle hand on Castiel's shoulder. "We can go and be back in a day." He lifted his hand and pretended to snap his fingers, symbolizing a fast and efficient way of travel. "The beach sounds great, Cas. After the wedding, we can pull up our pant legs and walk in the shore like those people in the movies." He was smiling, even though he was slightly disappointed to hear that their vacation getaway wasn't for their own romantic reasons. "Going to this wedding seems important to you, so it's important to me too."

     Castiel relaxed at these words. Dean stood and offered a hand to him, helping him to his feet.

     "Just don't tell Michael." said the brunette.

     "Okay." Dean shrugged. "My lips are sealed."

     "What are we not telling Michael?" Anna was standing in the kitchen doorway, arms crossed casually and eyebrow raised expectantly. Castiel covered his face, sinking back down to the floor once again.

 

     It was decided that the four of them, Castiel, Dean, Anna, and Charlie, would all be attending the reception. Anna had reacted furiously to Gabriel's voicemail, shouting about how selfish Michael was being and how pissed she was that she was twenty four hours away from missing her brother's wedding.

     "I can't _believe_ him! His own brother!" she had barked, storming around the kitchen in a fury. Charlie stood out of the way, laughing quietly and trying to calm her down for several minutes.

     Anna insisted on driving (because with Charlie on board, Dean's preferred method of transportation was out of the question). Unfortunately, that changed their two-second trip into an entire night's journey. It was convenient that Michael was out of town, giving them the opportunity to make the drive without the eldest Novak having to know about it.

     "I don't want to sit in the car for fourteen hours!" Dean complained loudly. "Why can't we go on our own, Cas?"

     "Because it would make sense for all of us to go together." Castiel answered, digging through the clothes in his closet for something appropriate to wear. "Anna might understand, but Charlie wouldn't."

     "So what? Who cares about what she thinks?" the demon pouted, lounging lazily in the desk chair. "I don't even know if I can stay a human for that long."

     "We'll take bathroom breaks." Castiel pulled out a nice jacket, black with a black tie, setting it out across his bed.

     "Awh, shit. Do I have to dress up too?" Dean groaned.

     "You're a _prince_ , Dean. I know you have a closet full of suits somewhere." Castiel dug out a pair of trousers, laying them out on the end of the bed as well and scrunching his brow, scrutinizing the suit.

     "Yeah but... I don't want to wear them." he grumbled. Castiel moved past him, emptying his unused school supplies from his backpack and stuffing in a pair of pajamas. "Michael won't be happy that we're using the emergency money for gas and a hotel." he noted.

     "Woah, woah, woah. A hotel?" Dean's head shot up, his eyes flashing black as if he had momentarily lost his grip on being human. "No one said anything about a hotel."

     "No causing trouble!" he warned in a motherly tone. "You're not going to do anything dangerous, Dean." The demon began to laugh, but it was shy and awkward.

     "You don't need to worry about that."

     Castiel finished packing his bag with everything he would need for a weekend trip: a change of clothes, his toothbrush and toothpaste, pajamas, and a big book to read in the car. He made sure to pack a few comic books too, in case Dean became bored and restless. Remembering the lionmouse on his desk, he hurried downstairs and dug around in the fridge for a chunk of thawed pork.

     The plan was to leave that night and drive until morning, taking a break at a hotel and then surprising Gabriel at the reception. It seemed like a solid idea, as long as Anna could stay awake to drive. She must have thought about this, because she was currently loading every can of soda pop from the fridge into a cooler.

     It was such a last minute plan that Castiel hardly had time to shower before he was being rushed out the door, a very human-like Dean in tow.

     “I still think we should have teleported.” the demon said under his breath, climbing into the back seat of Anna’s car. Castiel climbed in after them, and after a few minutes of getting comfortable, they were on their way.

    

 

     The night was long, and Dean was constantly fidgeting out of boredom and discomfort. It was too dark to read, even with the little overhead light on the roof of the car. Beside him, Castiel had his head propped up against the window, his mouth slightly gaped and his breathing slow. Dean watched him for some time, admiring the way his chest rose and fell. In the front seat, Anna was downing her fourth can of Mountain Mist and talking to Charlie in a hushed tone.

     Dean noticed that their fingers were intertwined across the console.

     The human obsession with heterosexuality was fascinating to the demon. If having a homosexual relationship was so frowned upon, then why was Gabriel marrying another man? Why was Anna holding hands with Charlie in the car? Why did Castiel agree to be his mate? The monster outlook on relationships made much more sense: if you like someone, mate with them. It was simple, it was efficient, and it made sense. Did most relationships work out? Hell no. Dean had seen dozens of mates separate because monsters are mean and sometimes repulsive creatures. But at least they had been happy for a time, and that’s what mattered.

     Dean leaned against his window and closed his eyes, thinking about such things until sleep overcame him like a dark wave.

     When he opened them next, he was no longer sitting in the back seat of Anna’s car. Looking around, he found himself in the chilly corn fields of the monster world.

     Slightly confused as to how he got there, Dean began to walk in the direction he deemed fit. The corn stalks were taller than his head, planted in uneven rows that made maneuvering difficult. It was too dark to see where he was going, and he scratched himself on their stalks more than a few times.

     Dean stopped when he heard a giggle somewhere behind him.

     “Hello?” the demon turned and looked around, seeing nothing but corn in every direction. “Who’s there?”

     The giggling pursued, the sound getting closer but never close enough to find the source. Dean lifted his hand and tried to snap himself away, but dropped his mouth in horror when he realized both of his hands were soaked in blood. It was not his own. His fingers were too wet to snap, and he felt dread in his chest.

     “Dean, Dean, Dean.” A hauntingly familiar voice called to him from an unseen location in the corn. “I believe we made a deal." He whipped around, finding himself face to face with a dark-haired, sly-eyed demon girl. She was grinning with sharp teeth.

     “Meg.” he snarled. She looked almost the same as when he confronted her in the woods on his search for Sam. Her tunic was even more torn, and her hair was now tied up in a messy, frizzy ponytail. Her eyes, a glazed, devious black, were targeting him.

     “Hey, prince.” Meg’s face was close enough for Dean to smell a sour odor on her breath.

     “I was in the car with Cas. How did I get here?” he demanded, curling his fingers into fists and preparing himself for any possible physical altercation. His hands felt slimy with warm blood. He already knew the answer. Meg had visited him in his sleep once before, the night he brought Sam home. Dean had been so panicked that he painted a special sigil beneath his bed, to protect his unconsciousness. He painted a similar one beneath Castiel’s bed, the first night he began sleeping there again.

     “Don’t ask stupid questions.” she reached out and grabbed the cotton of his shirt, piercing the fabric and scratching Dean’s torso with her claws. The fake-smile was gone. “We had a _deal_ , Winchester. Where’s my blood?”

     Some demons had natural powers. If Dean studied hard enough, he could have learned the dreamcatching spell that Meg was using on him now. It was likely that the girl had been born with the ability, because someone of such low class would never have access to such powerful magic. Dean knew that his body was still safely in Anna’s Volkswagen, but his mind was trapped in a dream that Meg had induced.

     “Answer me!” She dug her nails further into his chest, causing him a great deal of pain.

     “You didn’t keep up your end of the deal!” he argued, grabbing her wrist with his sticky hands. “You didn’t tell me where Sam was... Hell, _you_ were the wench that helped him sneak off in the first place!” Meg knocked him backwards into a stiff line of corn.

     “That poor kid was practically begging me to help him.” She kept a strong stance as she glared down at Dean, who was struggling to straighten up. “I bet he wasn’t happy when you dragged him home, either.”

     “Shut up about my brother!” the blonde growled. This time he was the one to lash out, grabbing her ratted ponytail and giving it a hard yank. “I should kill you for assisting the runaway of a minor!”

     “Oh _honey._ ” Meg laughed, tilting her head so that the pull on her hair was not so bad. “You couldn’t kill me if you tried. This is a dream, remember? We can’t _really_ hurt each other.” She lifted a leg, bringing her knee slamming into the middle of his legs. Dean yowled, grabbing at his groin and bending over in agony. “But it’s still fun to play.” she finished.

     As Dean lay on the ground, hands between his legs and tears forming in his eyes, Meg stood over him and pressed her bare foot into the side of his cheek, forcing the side of his face into the mud.

     “Listen here, Winchester.” she ordered in a slithery, kniving tone. “You owe me blood, and you’re late. For fuck’s sake, you _killed a human_ and you didn’t even think to bring me the body.” She sounded annoyed.

     “H-how do you know that?” Dean stuttered, spitting out a bit of mud. His face was still strained with the pain of his groin.

     “I know things.” Meg whispered, wiggling her dirty toes against his face. “ And I bet it felt good to kill that man, didn’t it? All these years stealing people’s souls…”

     Bringing up Sam, talking about the doctor, the blood on his hands… she was antagonizing him, and he knew it. Dean screwed his eyes shut, lifting an arm to knock her leg away and push himself to his knees, determined not to let her taunting get to him. He didn’t quite get to his feet before Meg threw him down again, this time flat on his back.

     “I want that blood, Dean. You’ve got three days to fill my order.” She bent down, grabbing his jaw in a very tight grip. “Or I’ll be getting it myself. And I promise you…” Meg released his chin, giving his cheek a fond pat. “You won’t like where I get it from.”

 

 

     Dean awoke with a start. The first rays of dawn were streaming into the back seat of the car, and Castiel was shaking his arm. He looked relieved when the demon’s eyes finally opened, their unnatural shade of green looking even brighter in the sunlight.

     “Are you okay?” Castiel whispered. “It sounded like you were having a nightmare.”

     Dean straightened up, stretching his arms as much as the car would allow. His heart was still pounding from Meg’s threat, and although he was not physically injured, he could still feel where her grimy toes had wiggled against his cheek.

     “Monsters don’t have nightmares.” he finally whispered back.

     Anna looked like she was about to fall asleep behind the wheel. She pulled into a vacant motel nearby, parking the car and resting her head against the steering wheel.

     “I’m going to have bags under my eyes for the ceremony.” she complained. Charlie’s hand was on her back.

     They checked out one motel room for the rest of the morning, getting a discount since they had arrived so late. They carried their few belongings up to their assigned room, dropped everything on the floor, and immediately headed to the beds to stretch out.

     Anna was asleep immediately, but not before setting the alarm on the bedside table. Charlie fell asleep soon after, and the two girls slept ungracefully sprawled across one of the two beds. Castiel sat upon the other, kicking off his shoes and pulling the blankets back.

     “I reckon we’re only a few hours out from-” The brunette had begun to speak, but stopped when he realized Dean was standing military-straight in front of the bed. Castiel narrowed his eyes, trying to decipher the demon’s strange stance. Dean was _glaring_ down at the bed, making his green eyes look just as challenging as his usual black. “Dean, what’s the matter?”

     “I’m not sleeping.” Dean whispered, crossing his arms. “Not here.”

     Castiel frowned, looking aside at Charlie and his sister before continuing.

     “Does this have to do with your nightmare?”

     “I told you, monsters don’t have nightmares!” he hissed. Charlie stirred slightly, but continued to quietly snore. Castiel looked hurt by his outburst, and Dean realized he would have to explain. “At least… they’re not _supposed_ to have nightmares.”

     Castiel patted the spot on the bed beside him, encouraging the demon to sit down. It was easy to tell that something was upsetting him, and if something was bad enough to upset Dean, Castiel knew that whatever it was had to be pretty bad.

     “Look, there’s something I have to tell you, Cas.” Dean began, knotting his fingers together and fidgeting.

     The brunette, blinked, taking a quick glance across the room to make sure the girls were still sleeping.

     “Yeah? What is it?”

     “Remember when I was looking for Sam, and I told you about that deal I made with a demon in the woods?” Dean was chewing on the inside of his mouth with flat, human teeth. Castiel nodded for him to go on. “Well she’s mad ‘cause I never got her the damn blood.”

     “But she’s the one who helped Sam over here.” the brunette whispered, pushing his glasses up on his nose. “If it’s so important, why doesn’t she come down here and get it?” He tried not to think about how scary it would be for a demon from Dean’s world to come to Earth with the agenda of collecting human blood.

     “I don’t know.” Dean sighed. “She wouldn’t say. Maybe I’ll ask her the next time she sneaks into my head.”

     Castiel sort of gasped at this.

     “She’s getting in your head? How?”

     “Some kind of magic.”

     Charlie let out another muffled snort from across the room, her face half-buried in the pillow now.

     “I put sigils under our beds to keep her out, but if I fall asleep anywhere else, she can get me.” The demon clenched his fists angrily. “I accidentally fell asleep in the car. I’m so _stupid._ She threatened to hurt you if I don’t bring her what she wants.”

     “You put _what_ under my bed?” Castiel was bewildered, and his voice slipped up into a higher volume. “Dean, why didn’t you tell me you had a demon after you?” Dean shushed him quickly, glancing over at the girls to make sure they were still sleeping.

     “ _Sigils._ Markings used for spells and enchantments.” he explained. “Completely safe if you know how to make them right.”

     Castiel crouched down beside the bed, peering underneath. There was enough space for them to crawl underneath if they tried.

     “Why don’t you put one underneath this bed then?”

     “It’s more complicated than that.” Dean grumbled. “I don’t have the book, and they’ve got to be done in blood.” He looked down, seeing Castiel’s hand on his arm. It seemed like nothing from his world was surprising to him anymore. He got back onto the bed, sighing.

     “Dean, you should have told me.”

     The demon’s shoulders sunk down with defeat. His human appearance faltered, first with the sudden growth of his horns and then with the blackness of his eyes. He looked like a demon again.

     “I don’t want to drag you into this. I’m just going to get the stupid blood so she’ll get off my back.” Dean dragged his fingers through his hair, his claws getting knotted in the blond locks. "You should get some sleep, Cas." There were only a few hours for them to sleep before the wedding reception, and although Castiel had taken a nap in the car, it was still wise for him to sleep while he could. He was known to be sour when he was tired.

     "What about you?" Castiel frowned, looking as if he was about to adamantly refuse.

     "Relax." Dean tapped the tip of his tail against the boy's leg. "I'll pop back to my place to take a snooze. I have to pick up a suit anyway, right?"

     This did relieve Cas, and he started to climb underneath the covers. "Alright but... what if you're late for the ceremony?"

     "Have I ever been late for something?" The demon lifted his brow. "I'll be back before the girls wake up." The blond began to tuck his young mate into bed, fixing the blankets so he would be comfortable, even in a strange bed.

     “Do you promise?” Castiel reached up, grabbing the front of Dean’s shirt before he could pull away. The demon relaxed his shoulders, leaning down and brushing his cool lips against the side of Castiel’s mouth.

     “Yeah, I promise.” he smiled, flashing a grin of jagged teeth. “Sleep tight, my little bed bug.”

     Castiel chuckled, nudging him away with his hands.

     “Get out of here, you weirdo.”

     The two kissed briefly, and Dean disappeared, leaving the brunette with an entire bed to himself, and blankets that felt just a little too stiff to be comfortable.


	12. Ceremony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel's wedding is upon them, but Dean is just excited to see the beach. Castiel worries over too many things. And what kind of trouble is Sam getting himself into now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all of your support, everyone! As always, let me know what you think! Follow the official Under My Bed blog for sneak peeks and updates at demon-ackles dot tumblr dot com. Enjoy the little teenagers while you can, because there's going to be another time hop soon! And I'm always looking forward to artwork to insert into the chapters! Enjoy!

     Dean did not return by the time Anna and Charlie woke up.

     Castiel couldn’t blame him now that he knew his dreams were being plagued by an evil demon girl, but Dean had _promised_ and he had never, in all of the years they had known each other, broken a promise. The boy tried to be patient. He lay in bed for some time, ignoring the tiny giggles and squeals that came from across the room. It was uncomfortable to hear his sister in bed with someone, even though it was obvious they were trying to be discreet.

     He pushed one of the pillows sideways and stuffed it under the blankets, pretending that he and the lumpy pillow he was posing to be Dean Winchester were asleep.

     The digital clock on the end table read 12:30. The ceremony would be in a few hours, and they still had a lengthy drive to the beach. Castiel knew that once his sister and her girlfriend actually got out of bed, they would spend an hour or two getting ready in the bathroom (or whatever girls did when they were in there together) and then they would be wanting to leave. Dean had until then to get back from the monster world, or questions would certainly arise.

     Castiel stared at the pillow for some time, hoping that Dean would appear under the blankets at any moment.

     He waited.

     And waited.

     And waited.

     Finally, Anna got up and made her way towards the bathroom. Her eyes did not wander to the boys’ bed. From the other side of the room, Charlie stood up and began to look around for something (her underwear, perhaps?) although she didn’t look his way either, and for that he was grateful.

     Castiel bit his lip, feeling anxiety settle in. He had no idea how he was supposed to explain that Dean had up and vanished in the middle of the night. Anna might understand, seeing as she had a vague idea of Dean and what kind of thing he was, but Charlie would never understand, and Castiel did not feel like trying to explain it again.

     One o’clock came around and Castiel was forced to get out of bed. His hair was a mess and he wanted to look somewhat presentable for Gabriel’s wedding. He pushed the covers off of himself and shuffled towards the bathroom, still steamy from the girls showering.

     “Where’s Dean?” Charlie asked casually, flicking channels on the television as she waited for her painted toenails to dry.

     “He went to get breakfast.” Castiel blurted out, quickly closing the bathroom door and sighing heavily on the other side. By this time, he was rather worried. It wasn’t like Dean to be late for anything, much less something that was so important to Castiel.

     The brunette began to undress, peeling off his sweater and then his jeans. His legs were stiff, and somewhere in the back of his head, he wished that he had remembered to change into his pajamas before bed.

     He turned on the faucet in the shower, letting the water warm while he scrutinized himself in the mirror. While he was staring at his reflection, his glasses became foggy with steam, and as he took them off and folded them up in his hands, he noticed the blurry image of a familiar demon behind him. The boy jumped, whipping around to face him.

     “That never gets old.” Dean grinned, folding his arms. "You're too easy to scare." He was wearing a black suit with a stunning red tie, which made him look much older and more handsome than usual.

     “You’re late.” Castiel mumbled.

     “Not too late to miss the show.” The demon responded with a cheesy smile. The boy gasped and covered himself quickly with a nearby towel.

     “Don’t be inappropriate. What took you so long?"

     “I overslept. But I’m here now, so what does it matter?” He perched on the counter, his tail tapping idly. "I sure hope you're not going to your brother's wedding without clothes on."

     Castiel ignored the demon's sarcasm, stepping into the shower and closing the curtain between them. He felt the stress relieve from his shoulders under the hot water.

     "Did that demon get in your dreams?" he asked, squirting a dollop of cheap motel shampoo into his hand. It was "ocean" scented, which was a scent he wouldn't have associated with hair. It didn't quite smell like ocean, or anything else, really.

     "Nope. Slept like a baby." Dean was still sitting on top of the counter, mesmerized with Castiel's silhouette on the shower curtain. "You didn't even notice my fancy threads."

     From behind the curtain, the boy choked on a laugh.

     "Of course I noticed. But _please_ don't ever refer to your clothes as _fancy threads._ Where did you even hear that?"

     Sometimes Dean said things for the mere purpose of hearing Castiel laugh. It was a musical sound, though his amusement was usually shown in quiet chuckles. A hearty laugh from Cas was rare and very satisfying.

     "So you like them?"

     "You look very elegant." Castiel rinsed his hair, scrubbing himself over quickly with the complimentary ocean-scented body wash. It did not smell very much like the ocean, he decided. Or anything else, really.

     "I've got to look good for your brother's wedding. I even brought him a ceremonial mating gift."

     When Castiel scrunched his brow and peeked around the corner of the curtain, he noticed the strange wriggling object in Dean's hands. The creature had three heads and several waving tentacles. The tentacles were covered in ugly warts and aquatic growths. He was certain that it hadn't been there before.

     "Whatever that is, put it back." the boy said calmly, retreating behind the safety of the curtain.

     The demon looked mildly disappointed.

     "The cerberopus is a very traditional mating present. The tentacles are filled with a poisonous gas that's released when someone raises their voice over a certain volume. Married couples keep them in their homes to avoid verbal confrontations with each other. Marriages last longer that way. These babies are almost extinct, you know."

      "Put it back." Castiel repeated. The last thing he needed was a three-headed octopus spewing poisonous gas around his brother's apartment.

     "Are you _done_ yet, Castiel?" Anna's voice called from the other side of the door. "We've got to go, or we're going to be late!"

     Castiel wrapped himself in a towel and left the comfort of the shower, pleased to see that Dean had gotten rid of the cerberopus.

     "I told them you were getting breakfast." he whispered to the blonde. Dean straightened up, grinning widely.

     "I'm on it."

     The demon disappeared, no doubt to actually find himself something to eat before returning. Castiel combed his hair and started to dress himself, wiggling into his dress pants and his button up shirt. It would be too warm for the jacket, he knew, so he left that folded up and went on to do his tie.

     Anna and Charlie were already dolled up and ready to leave. Their suitcases were packed, their hair was done, and they were both wearing short elegant dresses, appropriate for a wedding on the beach. Castiel felt a bit overdressed in his suit, but Anna squeezed one of his cheeks and told him he looked handsome. Dean returned holding a box of donuts (most likely stolen from the Dippin’ Donuts down the street) and dished them out to everyone, alleviating any suspicion that he had been missing that morning.

     Castiel, though he wanted to believe that Dean had merely slept in, was still concerned that the demon had been hiding something. The news about Meg and his nightmares was unsettling. Unpleasant thoughts plagued the back of his mind, even as the four of them drove onto the highway, following signs that read “Virginia Beach”.

    

 

     A small boy wrapped in layers of clothing stood by himself in the middle of a clearing. There were trees in a perfect circle around him, though they were all wilted or dead, and the only leaves were crunchy old brown ones scittering across the ground.

     The blood moon was bright overhead.

     “Oh, boy.” a cool voice called to him from the shadows. “I didn’t expect to see you here again so soon. Taking another trip back to the human world?”

    “I was just looking for you.” the boy retorted, sounding brave despite his small voice.

     “Oh?” The voice came from another direction now. “And what would a demon prince want with little ‘ol me?”

     Sam Winchester turned towards the sound of the voice, clearing his throat and speaking loudly.

     “I want you to leave my brother alone!” he demanded, fists clenched defensively at his sides. The voice began to laugh, but Sam stood strong. “I’ve seen the sigils under his bed, and I know what they are! You’re using nightmare magic on him!”

     “My, my. You are a smart boy.”  Meg strolled into the clearing behind the boy, resting her arm across his meager shoulders. Sam yanked his arm away, pulling a dagger out of his belt and pointing it at the demon girl. “No need for that, Sammy.” she grinned. “It’s true, I’ve been having a little fun with your brother. But am I hurting him? Not yet.” Her teeth, yellowed and jagged, were straight out of a nightmare. Sam’s hands trembled, but his grip on the dagger was firm.

     “You’re doing this because of me.” he said warily. “You helped me through the portal, and now you want some kind of compensation.”

     “Hey!” Meg snapped, reaching forward and jamming a finger into Sam’s chest. “Your brother made a deal! It’s his own fault he decided not to follow through with it! You don’t break deals with demons!”

     Sam stumbled backwards, too fearful to attack with the dagger. His collarbone ached where her claw had scathed his flesh.

     Sam thought about his brother. Dean, as irresponsible as he may have been, was not stupid. He wouldn’t have broken a deal unless it was necessary.

         “What does he owe you?” Sam frowned, unsure of what to expect. He knew his brother had been worried about him when he disappeared. He was a demon, and so was Meg. It was likely that he had promised her souls to help fill a quota (that is what most demons wanted, after all).   
     “Just a little blood.” Meg answered, surprising him. “Oh don’t look so shocked, Sammy.”  
     “It’s _Sam_.” He corrected her firmly, biting his bottom lip. “What do you need his blood for?”  
     “Stupid little demon prince, you are so naïve.” The girl hissed. “Not your brother’s blood. _Human_ blood.”  
     Sam narrowed his eyes. He had read books about demons who drank the blood of humans. He’d also read books about how human blood effects demons, putting them in a sort of frenzy and giving them a temporary high. Sometimes it made them stronger and gave them special powers. From the looks of Meg and her raggedy clothing, the only thing it did was make her an addict.

     “Why can’t you get it yourself?” he retorted. The rugged demon rolled her eyes dramatically.

     “You think I wouldn’t if I could? I’ve been banned from the human world.” She pushed her lower lip into a fake pout. “I didn’t fill my quota last year and your precious father has taken my power and banned me from every Earth portal in the kingdom.”

     Sam squinted, looking unconvinced. "He wouldn't do that just for not filling a quota. Demons are naturally lazy… they don’t fill quotas all the time."

     He stared at Meg, and Meg stared back. It was silent. Finally, she let out a huff of air.

     "You’re too smart for your own good, kid.”

     “You’re nothing but a liar and a drug addict.” Sam concluded, returning his dagger to his belt and crossing his arms. “When I tell Dad what you’re doing, he’s gonna-”

     “You’re not going to tell your daddy anything.” Meg interrupted, grabbing Sam’s forearm and twisting it uncomfortably far. The young prince opened his mouth to gasp in pain. “You’re going to be a good little boy and convince your brother to get me that blood.”

     “What makes you think I’ll listen to anything you tell me to do?” Sam barked, every muscle in his arm beginning to ache.

     “You want me to quit harassing him, don’t you?” Meg pulled his arm further, stretching the tendons. The boy gritted his teeth, scrunching up his face with agony. “All I need is a little human blood.” she whispered close to his ear, releasing his arm from her grip. He nearly stumbled backwards, gripping his arm close and rubbing the muscles. “Then I’ll leave him alone for good.”

     Sam stared down at his hand. There were welts where her claws had dug into his skin, and blood swelled up out of tiny pin-pricks at the end of each scratch.

     A mad idea came to the boy’s mind, and he extended his hand to her.

     “Take mine.” he ordered. Meg raised her brow and began to laugh.

     “Didn’t you listen to a word that I said, brat? It has to be human blood! Your filthy royal demon blood won’t do shit for me-”

     “I’m half human.” he butted in. “My mother was a human.” Meg’s expression relaxed and turned to interest. “That’s why I don’t have horns like Dad or Dean. I can use magic, but I’m not the same as them.”

     Meg began to laugh hysterically, and Sam furrowed his brow.

     “You’re kidding!” she shrieked. “Prince Samuel Winchester, a _human?_ Oh, they’re gonna love this back home.”

     “ _Half_ human!” he corrected her viciously. His eleven year old voice cracked, only making her laugh harder.   
     “All this time I’m trying to get snooty demons to bring me back human blood and here you are sitting right under my nose.” she snickered. “What an unexpected turn of events. I’ve got to say, Sammy. You’re a brave boy.”

     “It’s _Sam!_ ” he shouted, reaching for his dagger again. The demon’s mocking was infuriating him. “You listen here, peasant! If I give you my blood, you have to leave my brother alone! The deal is off, and he doesn’t owe you anything!”

     Meg’s laughter subdued and the tip of her tail curled.

     “You got it, prince.”

     Sam felt sickness in his chest. Had he just made a deal with a demon?

     Meg reached out and turned his arm upwards, shoving his sleeve up to his elbow and revealing the flesh of his forearm. His skin was pale, though not nearly as pale as her own bony white hands. She gave a tentative sniff at his skin, and Sam cringed.

     “Would you get on with it?” he demanded, looking the other direction.

     There was a sudden slice of pain across his skin, and Sam yelped. Meg dropped her knife and licked her lips hungrily at the wound she had opened up. He had been expecting a bite or a small prick, not a five-inch open cut straight down his forearm. Blood began to gush out, dribbling down either side of his arm and spotting the ground below. Meg was quick to dive in, lapping at the crimson river with the tip of her tongue. The contact against his wound was painful.   
     The demon girl made noises of content, purring and moaning in the back of her throat. He couldn’t imagine his half-blood tasting good, but she was lapping it up like a thirsty lionmouse.

     After a minute of watching her tongue work around his wound, Sam began to feel lightheaded. She had taken a hearty amount of blood, and was now licking the wound clean. It had stopped bleeding, leaving nothing but a deep gorge in his flesh; a pale pink valley between two flushed ridges. The young prince began to rock back and forth.

     Meg pulled back, red streaks across her chin and around her mouth.

     “I’ve got to say, Sam.” she murmured, licking her tainted lips. “For half of a human, your blood is pretty damn bonafide.”

     Meg reached out to grab the boy just before he toppled to the ground.

 

 

    Castiel and the others were far overdressed for the occasion. In the voicemail, Gabriel hadn't mentioned that the wedding would be casual dress. As Castiel approached the small crowd on the beach, he saw men in t-shirts and women in light dresses and bikinis. Feeling self-conscious in his suit, even without the jacket, he meandered over behind Charlie and his sister. Dean was at his side, huffing and looking agitated.

"You said I had to wear this thing." he grumbled. "It's too hot. I've got _cold blood_ and I'm too hot."

     "I didn't know." Castiel whispered back.

     "Do my eyes deceive me?"

     Castiel looked up to see his brother standing before him, golden eyes shining like whiskey under the sun. He was wearing a nice collared shirt, though it was wrinkled as if it had been buried in a pile for some time. Delight and surprise were evident on his face at the sudden arrival of his family, or at least part of it.

     "Anna, Castiel!" Gabriel grinned, reaching his arms out and throwing them around his siblings. "I can't believe you made it!"

     "We wouldn't miss your wedding for the world, Gabe." Anna said fondly, slipping out of his grasp before he could ruffle her carefully-curled hair. The groom reached down and tugged on Castiel's tie gently.

      "You're a bit overdressed." he commented. "You look better than I do, little man."

     "We didn't know it was casual dress." Dean piped up, looking distracted. He was staring at the sand by his feet, speckling his dress shoes and the bottom of his trousers.

     "Dean Winchester, in the flesh. Still hanging around with this dork?" Gabriel moved past his brother, patting his back as he did so. Dean lifted his head, giving Gabriel a wary smile. "It's good to see you without black eyes." He joked, reaching out to shake his hand. "Thanks for coming, man." Looking over at Charlie he quickly added, "You too, little red. Anna hasn't popped the question yet, has she?"

     Charlie flushed and shook her head quickly, and Anna laughed, hitting her brother's arm.

     "Come on, Gabe. If you harass your siblings, they might not get us a wedding gift." Balthazar approached Gabriel from the other side, hooking an arm around his waist affectionately. He was dressed similarly to Gabriel, although his shirt wasn't as wrinkled. There was a tropical flower pinned to the front of his shirt, mimicking the corsage that a man would have worn.

     This was the most untraditional wedding he had ever imagined, but as Castiel looked at the two of them together, he couldn't remember his brother ever looking so happy. "I told you they would come."

     Gabriel leaned over to plant a quick kiss on the other's cheek.

     "You were right." the Novak hummed, looking pleased. "I was worrying over nothing. Where's Michael?"

     The smiles dropped off of their faces as they realized Gabriel was expecting the eldest Novak to attend as well. When no one spoke, his shoulders slouched and a look of disappointment came across his face.

      "Oh... right."

     "We’re still waiting on a few of my cousins to show up.” Balthazar offered to change the subject. “Food first, ceremony later. Come on over and grab some grub, guys. My dad makes great BBQ."

     As the two grooms lead the way towards the smell of delicious food, Dean grabbed Castiel's hand and pulled him in a different direction.

     "W-wha?" the brunette was startled, nearly tripping in the sand. "Where are we going?" Dean didn't answer, though he was anxiously pulling his mate towards the water.

     “The ocean! I’ve never seen it, remember?” He kicked his shoes off, pulled his socks up, rolled his pant legs up, and went jogging towards the water’s edge. Castiel laughed, struggling to catch up.

     “Slow down!” he called. “The water will still be there after the wedding!”

     Dean was already knee-deep in the tide, bent over and splashing his hands in the water. He looked childlike.

     “The water is so cold!” he exclaimed. “The sand is sharp! CAS! My feet! They’re sinking!”

    Castiel reached the demon, leaning over to catch his breath. Gabriel and the others were small in the distance. It was a good thing, because in all of Dean’s excitement, his horns had popped up atop his head.

     “Dean!” Castiel laughed, giving the demon boy a playful shove. “Your horns!”

     Dean reached up and checked his head for the scaly black appendages, and he burst into laughter. His concentration had been lost, and his eyes flashed black.

     “I can’t help it! This place is so cool!” He threw a wet arm around Castiel’s shoulders, pulling him closer. “Thank you for bringing me here, Cas.” he murmured fondly, rubbing his nose into the other’s cheek. “This is the best.”

     Castiel blushed, hoping that no one else on the beach was paying any attention to them.

     “We used to go here all the time when I was just a little kid…” he trailed off. “You should hide your horns again. We don’t want anyone else to see.” He wiggled away and looked down at himself, realizing he had forgotten to roll his pant legs up before rushing into the tide with Dean. The bottom half of his pants were soaked, and his socks were sloshing inside his shoes. Dean took his advice. His eyes faded back to their unnatural green and the horns vanished into thin air, leaving him a human once again.

     “I wish we could stay here forever.” Dean’s head tilted up towards the sun, absorbing the radiant waves with a big smile. “It’s too bad we have to go back before Michael gets home.”

     Castiel furrowed his brows and slouched his shoulders sadly.

     “If he was any sort of a brother, he would be here.” he mumbled miserably. Michael’s hatred for Gabriel’s lifestyle made him sick to his stomach. A heavy pit of uncertainty in his chest brought him discomfort, even as he watched Dean continue to splash in the small waves. If the eldest Novak treated Gabriel this way for being a homosexual, what would he say when he found out about Anna and Charlie? Or worse, Dean?


	13. Demons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meg experiences the consequences of taking royal blood. Sam wakes up in an unfamiliar place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 13! I had a lot of fun writing this chapter. It focuses mainly on our antagonist and it lays the background for the real plot of this story. The next chapter will be another time skip. That means older Dean and Cas (which I've been waiting to get to for a while). Chapter 14 is in the works, but I've started a new job that's extremely time consuming. 
> 
> As always, let me know what you think! Follow the official blog (demon-ackles) on tumblr for sneak previews of upcoming chapters and hints as to when they will be posted. Love you guys!

     In the monster world, otherwise known as the nether regions, it was quite common to see citizens lounging about the streets, and whether they were dead or alive hardly affected one's day.

     "There's Joe Smith again. That's the fourth time I've seen him today. I reckon someone ought to move him before the vultures... well, we'll be having ourselves a real mess here soon."

     But as Sam Winchester had mentioned before, demons were incredibly lazy creatures. If they could step around it, not one of them was going to take the responsibility to move a corpse from the street or an unconscious demon prince from the woods. In fact, no one noticed the demon prince was lying unconscious in the woods at all, except the whispering trees, which could do little except send a soft breeze his way with their spiny branches.

     Eventually someone would come along to find him, a mere boy sprawled across the grass with a deep laceration in his arm caked with dry blood. They may or may not have recognized him, considering demons and monsters of the sort had terrible memory. If no one found him, the boy was likely to awaken himself, dazed and confused, and he was likely to wander home with uncertainty as to what had happened, with nothing but a deep wound on his arm to remind him of his troubles.

     The demon girl Meg was skilled in not only nightmare magic, but mind manipulation as well. It was complicated, but when done correctly, she could alter anyone's memory.

     So little Sammy would awaken, or be awoken, however fate may play out, though he would have no recollection of how he obtained such an injury to his forearm, or why he had come to the woods at all.

     It just so happened, as luck would have it, that Sam Winchester did not awake on his own. He was gently nudged by a calloused hand on his shoulder.  The hand belonged to someone whom the prince did not know himself, although he was not a complete stranger.

     "Follow me." said the fellow, who was already helping the boy to his feet. And Sam, who hardly knew any better at the time, followed him.

 

 

     Meg Masters was three thousand nine hundred and fifty-two years of knowledge and skill trapped in the tiny demon vessel of a sixteen year old girl.

     She was still young, considering most demons in the nether regions averaged out to be ten thousand or so years old, but she was hardly naive, and her vessel was simply too small for her. If you could imagine it, three thousand nine hundred and  fifty-two years of knowledge being stuffed inside a teenage girl; thick, billowing black smoke stuffed to every orifice of the vessel, you would imagine it was very crowded for a demon to be.

     Now, not all demons had to borrow vessels: Dean and Sam Winchester were both born demons with vessels of their own, bodies which grew and aged along with them. Other demons were born like this as well, considered to be privileged for having their own vessel. As you can imagine, having one's own vessel was like having _just_ the right amount of space. There was still black smoke swirling inside the Winchesters, but that smoke would never have a reason to be released.

     Other demons, _older_ demons, like Meg, were not so lucky. They were created, not born, at the hands of Satan himself. Each puff of black smoke was left to find their own vessel.

     The vessel chosen by Meg was a girl named Meg, and Meg the demon took the alias Meg because Meg the demon had no better title for herself, and Meg seemed just about right.

     What she had told the Winchester had been partially true. The King _had_ denied her access to the human world, but not for the reason she spoke of. Failing to collect enough souls was a common occurrence- demons were lazy, mind you- and that was hardly reason to have one's soul collecting powers revoked.

     The crime was more significant than mere laxness.

     Her attempts to open the gates of Hell several centuries ago was defiant enough for a trial, in which she was proven to be guilty. The gates remained shut, and Meg was sentenced to fifteen thousand years of "house arrest". She wasn’t the only demon to attempt opening the gates, but such a crime was not overlooked.

     Being the age that she was at the time, Meg was punished lightly. Other than confinement to the nether regions, she was allowed to live the life of a particularly lazy demon. Centuries of boredom lead to certain disruptive past times, which eventually lead her addiction to human blood.

     She had a small posse of fellow friends that shared this interest, whom she referred to as her followers, despite the fact Meg was hardly a leader. More fondly, she called them her pets. They snuck in and out of the human world with as much blood as they could smuggle. Less fondly, the group of them were known across the nether regions as the "Rogues". As most demons were troublemakers, the group of them hardly stood out.

     The demon Meg meandered down the alleyway, her bare shoulder rubbing against the rough bricks. She stumbled past the abandoned vessel of an elderly man, whose eyes were dull and lifeless. Further down the alley, she spotted a pair of catcoons hissing and spitting at each other over a scrap of flesh (quite possibly from the empty vessel).

     At the end of the alley was a tall rickety fence made of rotten wood. Glossy black eyes rolled around twice, checking the surrounding area. Nothing but the hissing catcoons seemed out of place. She extended a lazy hand, knocking twice on the damp wooden fence.

     “Password?” the voice on the other side of the fence was daunting and immediate. Meg allowed herself to lean against the fence, her knees threatening to buckle beneath her.

     “Down with the King.” her shaky voice responded. There was a pause before the fence began to tremble. A loud creak alerted her that the hidden door had been opened. The demon gave a final glance around the empty alleyway before slipping through.

     An ugly fellow stood on the other side. His face was gnarled into a hideous grimace, and his mouth was barren of most teeth. Meg was small in comparison. She wiggled past without a second glance at the fellow, who gave an irritated snort at her ignorance.

     “You’re late again.” he growled. “We’ve been waiting.”

     “Demons are so impatient.” The demon girl stumbled a few steps forward, her thin legs threatening to give out at any moment. The guard seemed uninterested in her fragility. “I was tending to important matters.” she added. “Not that an ogre like you would understand.”

     The ogre, feeling offended, crossed his fat arms across his chest.

     “It smells to me like you were having yourself a late snack.” he grumbled.

     On the other side of the fence, known only to demons with the password, was the back door to a tall building which was otherwise blocked off. It was several stories high, clearly damaged from a fire and weathered down by wind and rain, and there were several gaping holes where the structure used to be steady. Above the doorway was a broken sign that read: Weston Apartments.

     Meg dragged her feet towards the entrance to this building, pushing the door open with a weak thrust of her arms. It screeched open and banged loudly against the bricks.

     “You could be a little more inconspicuous!" the grumpy ogre snapped over his shoulder.

     The ascent up the stairs was a long and hard one for the demon. Her vision was still hazy, and she nearly tripped several times on the first set of steps. By the time she reached the third floor, she was out of breath.

     If one was to explore the burnt, seemingly abandoned building, they would find that most walkways were obstructed by rubble and fallen in ceiling. It was difficult to navigate through, which made it a good candidate for secret meetings. The only entrance in and out of the building was the back door she had just entered through, which was guarded daily, just in case. Unwanted listeners led to unwanted attention, as Meg always said.

     The Rogues met on the third floor of the Weston building in apartment 34. It was the only room that hadn't been damaged by the fire and the small group of them had cleaned it up quite nicely; making it suitable for meetings. For Meg, it was more than a meeting place.

     "Honey, I'm home." she called out down the hallway. The doorway to apartment 34 opened and a man with black eyes poked his head out.

     "You're late." he scolded her curtly.

     "Tell me something I don't know." Meg rolled her eyes and paused, feeling the gravity shift beneath her feet. She leaned forward, her knees suddenly buckling beneath herself.

     The other demon rushed to her side, grabbing her arm and pulling her back to her feet. He held her steady until she found her balance.

     "Have you been shooting it up?" his voice lowered. “How did you get it?"

     Meg wagged her finger.

     "You'll find out soon." she said in a promising tone, pushing his arm away and putting one foot in front of the other until they reached apartment 34.

      The room smelled of burnt rubble, despite looking like a normal apartment. The furniture was clean, the fridge was stocked, and there was a large sectional couch seating several demons. Her pets, as she tended to call them, rose to their feet as she entered the room. The demon man followed in behind her. There were several hushed tones.

     "Shut up!" Meg snarled, immediately quieting the whispers. "Listen here, for I have news that will change _everything_." The demon girl's followers straightened their backs, and apartment 34 was unusually silent.  Several pairs of beady black eyes were on the girl, waiting for her to speak. The man who had helped Meg into the room took a seat in a nearby armchair. “Sam and Dean Winchester are half-blooded.”

     “Impossible!” Three of the followers jumped to their feet, their faces full of fury and disbelief.

     “Are you calling me a liar?” Meg screeched like an owl, her eyes narrow and cold. The energy used to shout took away the strength in her legs. She wobbled.

     The man stood from his chair, straightening his suit although he had only just seated himself. When he opened his mouth to speak, his voice was eerily calm and smooth.

     “Of course not, my liege.” he cooed. “Although it does bring upon the question… how did you come across such valuable information?”

     Meg seemed to relax at his words. She wrapped her fingers around a nearby globe, holding it for balance.

     “I drank Sam Winchester’s blood.” Her explanation was short and efficient. The demon followers slowly seated themselves, though still looking rattled.

     “Is he dead?” one dared to ask. Meg shook her head.

     “How is it possible?” murmured another. “Half-blood demon royalty. Is the King himself, half of a demon?”

     Meg shook her head again. The room began to spin, and her head began to ache.

     “No… no, the King is pure-blood. His children are not. The late Queen Mary was a human.”

     More murmurs of disbelief spread across the room.

     “Sam and Dean Winchester… half-bloods!”

     “Imagine what the world would come to with half-bloods on the throne!”

     “We can’t let it happen!”

     “I knew it seemed wrong… Sam is without horns! A demon born without horns!”

     “We should have seen it coming!”

     The voices began to heavily overlap one another, and Meg lost sight of who was saying what.

     “Enough… this changes everything.” she mumbled. “Forget the plan… we need to kill the boys.” She was vaguely aware of a firm hand on her shoulder, guiding her to the chair. It was the man in the suit.

     “Silence!” he barked, and the demons obeyed. “Can you not see? Our leader is not well.” The followers watched Meg with a mock sense of concern. The young demon suddenly found herself in an armchair, unsure of how she got there.

     “The Winchester’s blood… no other demon is to take it.” she hissed. “It is poison.” The room was beginning to warp into shades of black and white. “I need… a new vessel.”

     “We will find you one immediately.” the man spoke into her ear, his breath cool against her blazing skin. “Rest now.” He did not need to repeat his words, for she was already slouching over in the chair, a shaky breath escaping her mouth. Before the man could pull away from his soothing embrace, she grabbed a fistful of his jacket and pulled him closer.

     “I will rest when the Winchesters are dead.” she whispered, thrusting a blade just below the man’s tie.

     If you have never experienced a demon leaving its vessel, you might have been startled by the shots of lightning flashing through the body, lighting up the insides like a firecracker. You may have been startled by the mass of black smoke that was expelled suddenly through the vessel’s mouth, and the way it snaked around in the air before vanishing into the nearby vent. The vessel of the man collapsed onto the carpet, staining it with fresh blood.

     The demon followers sat, uninterested, as black smoke rose from the young girl’s vessel, swirled around in midair for a moment, and then lunged directly into the abandoned vessel’s mouth. Black eyes snapped open, and Meg began to sit up. The wound on the man’s chest dissipated, leaving nothing but a blood stain on the front of the white dress shirt, and a matching stain on the carpet, which would later be removed with a small amount of bleach, because Meg hated coming home to a mess.

     “Now then.” Meg began, standing up and dusting off the suit just as the demon had done before. “Let’s talk about this plan.”

 

     The ride home was dreadfully long and uncomfortable, and sleep was unavoidable. Luckily, Dean’s dreams were undisturbed, which meant the demon Meg had something better to do with her time than bother him. He watched his young mate sleep for some time before dozing off himself, and he was pleasantly surprised when he next awoke in the driveway of the Novak’s household. A sleep deprived Anna made her way upstairs, a grouchy frown on her face. She kicked the stairs as she walked along, sounding to Dean as if a troll were in the house instead. Charlie followed her timidly, rubbing her own eyes and looking as if she were about to sleep on the carpeted steps.

     Castiel, having slept most of the ride, was alert. He pushed his glasses up on his nose and took off his shoes by the front door, as he usually did, before setting them neatly in the hall closet. Dean nonchalantly threw his shoes into the closet, slamming the door with a flick of his tail. Now that the girls were upstairs, he no longer had to hold up his human appearance.

     The analog clock in the living room said it was after two in the morning. Michael would be home by morning, and with any luck, he wouldn’t ask how the emergency money was spent.

     “We can go back to the beach sometime, if you’d like.” the demon eagerly suggested. “We didn’t even get to go swimming or find seashells. I can take us back there anytime you want.” Dean sounded enthusiastic. The monster world didn’t have anything like a beach so something as simple as hunting for seashells was probably a privilege, Castiel realized.

     “I’d like that.” Castiel agreed with a small smile. He lead the way to his bedroom, closing the door softly after Dean’s tail had made it through the doorway. “I’m glad we got to see Gabriel’s wedding.”

     “I’m mad that I had to wear this stupid suit and no one else was dressed up.” Dean remarked, his eyes glistening with cleverness. The brunette shrugged and began to unbutton his dress shirt. As soon as the reception was over, the four of them had said their farewells and jumped right back into the crowded car to head home. They were all still wearing the clothes they had chosen for the wedding, and there was still sand between Castiel’s toes. He didn’t mind.

     “I think you look very nice.” he said encouragingly, stripping down to his underwear and tossing his clothes into the hamper. “You should dress up more often. It makes you look…” Dean smirked as Castiel searched for the right word.

     “Princely?”

     “I was going to say handsome.”

     The demon undressed himself as well, tossing his suit on top of Castiel’s.

     “Cas, can we get married on the beach?”

     The spontaneous question surprised the young man, and he quickly turned around to stare at the demon, as if wanting him to repeat the question. He wasn’t sure he was hearing correctly. The demon stared right back with a naive squint.

     “What’s that look for?” he asked.

     Castiel shakes his head and looks back down, reaching into his dresser for a set of neatly folded pajamas.

     “You just asked if we could get married on the beach.” he repeated, pulling the striped bottoms up to his waist. “Implying that you would like to be married.” Castiel was clearly averting his eyes now, and Dean’s brow furrowed harder.

     “That’s what mates do here, yeah?” The demon dug into Castiel’s dresser, pulling out the same t-shirt he always borrowed for bed. “Gabriel and Balthazar are mates, and they got married.”

     “Gabriel and Balthazar are older.” Castiel swiftly pointed out, buttoning up his pajama flannel and heading for the bed. “And they’re not _mates,_ Dean. Balthazar was Gabriel’s fiance. Now he’s Gabriel’s husband.” It felt weird for him to say, and it felt even weirder to think Balthazar was now his brother-in-law. “They pay their own bills and live on their own.”

     Dean looked confused now.

     “Hang on a minute. Are you saying you _don’t_ want to be married?” the demon’s eyes fixed themselves on Castiel until the human looked over his shoulder to answer.

     “I’m not saying that.” he muffled; his cheeks the slightest tint of pink. “I’m just saying we’re young, is all.”

     Not wanting to argue anymore, Castiel pulled back the blankets and slipped between his sheets, sighing heavily at the comfort he found there. A moment later, Dean joined him.

     “Well I like you a lot, Cas.” the demon admitted. “And I want to tie myself to you in every worldly way there is.”

     Dean nuzzled his cheek into the pillowcase, thinking fondly about Castiel and the time they had shared thus far. _I'll get that stupid demon her blood. Then she'll have nothing on me and Cas._

     The two boys closed their eyes; the darkness around them bringing peace and quiet. As the demon prince promptly began to snore into his pillow, Castiel rolled onto his other side, facing away from his mate. The lionmouse that Dean had given him as a gift scuttled softly in the corner of its cage, making its presence known.

     A pit of worry burrowed into Castiel’s chest, and sleep did not find its way to him until the first rays of the sun rose over the horizon.

 

     Sam awoke, eventually, in a strange bed. Fear clenched at his stomach with an iron fist and he jolted into a sitting position, feeling instantly dizzy after doing so. The room around him was unfamiliar. The interior was nothing like the royal castle, and the air smelled strongly of herbs and damp plants. The room was small and cluttered, as if it were a one-room cabin. The young prince gazed around with a dazed look on his face. Seeing the red moon shining in through the nearby window, he was able to deduce that he was still in the nether regions. The realization was comforting, though not completely.

     “Ah, you’re awake.”

     Sam’s head whipped to the side and he stared at the man who had spoken. He was standing nearby, watching the young Winchester with raised brows. His eyes were not black, which was even more eerie than it would have been if they were. There were horns upon his head, but they were broken, as if they had been chipped away or sawed off unevenly. It was not clear whether this man was a demon or not. Sam stared at him, speechless.

     “You are confused and frightened.” said the stranger. “Don’t worry, Sam Winchester. I am a friend.” As Sam opened his mouth to speak, nothing but a choked gasp of air made it past his lips. His throat was incredibly dry, and his mouth felt like sandpaper. “Shh…” the stranger reached over, stroking his fingers through Sam’s messy tousled hair. “You’ve been unconscious for a few days.. I imagine your father is worried about you.”

     Sam wanted to ask the stranger where he was, or how he got there. His memories were jumbled; his head full of conflicting thoughts. _I remember leaving the castle…_ he thought to himself, licking across his dry lips. _Where was I going…?_

     The stranger did not seem to have these answers for Sam, and if he did, it didn’t seem like he was going to share them. Instead, he had his back towards the prince, leaning over what appeared to be a small stove. The source of the herbal scent was coming from an old kettle, which was just starting to whistle.

     “I found you in the forest.” the stranger went on. “I certainly wasn’t expecting it… finding a prince laying out there like an empty vessel. As soon as I got you back here, you passed out again. No surprise… you lost quite a bit of blood. Any idea how you got that cut on your arm?”

     For the first time since he woke up, Sam realized there was a bandage of leaves wrapped around his forearm. The aroma of strong herbs filled his nostrils. He gave his arm an experimental shake.

     “A simple herb wrap. It’s healing nicely.” The stranger poured steaming water out of the kettle and into a little glass mug. “Would you like dragon milk with your tea?”

     Sam’s mind was somewhere else.

     _What was I doing in the forest? How did I get hurt?_ He contemplated these thoughts as he was handed the small mug of tea.

     “You’re probably wondering who I am.” the stranger smiled, sitting directly across from the bed atop a wooden stool. Behind him, a thin tail twitched. “I am not your enemy.”

     After taking a few sips of steaming herbal tea, Sam’s mouth was wet enough to speak. He cleared his throat several times, coughing twice, before setting his mug aside and facing the stranger.

     “If you’re not my enemy, why didn’t you take me back to the castle?” he demanded in the bravest tone of voice the poor boy could manage.

     The stranger stirred his own piping cup of tea with the tip of his index finger.

     “My home was closer. Your wound needed immediate medical attention.”

     But Sam was quick thinking, and the stranger’s excuses were not sufficient.

     “You said I’ve been here for days.” he argued feebly. “You had plenty of time to alert my father.” The stranger smiled, and Sam became frustrated. “How do I know that you’re not the one who dragged me into the woods in the first place?”

     “Oh, Sammy.” the stranger reached up to scratch the stubble of his lower jaw as he spoke. “I know you are confused. Your memories have been altered by a powerful spell. I have seen this magic before, but only a few times. Someone doesn’t want you to know what you were doing in the woods that night.”

     The stranger finished his tea, setting his glass beside Sam’s half empty mug. He straightened his back, and his fingers intertwined themselves in his lap.

     “There is a danger coming to this world, Sam. A darkness is rising.” His voice was foreboding, and his posture stiff. “Your books will not prepare you. Your silly demon exams will hold you back. It doesn’t matter how many souls you collect, or how proud your father is. You must train to _survive._ ” he paused. “You’re a smart boy, Sam. Warm blood and colorful eyes do not make you a human.”

     The young prince was holding his breath. His eyes stretched wide with fear, and his body shook unwillingly at the haunting prophetic words.

     “W-who are you?” the boy whispered, his inhuman heart pounding out of his chest.

     The stranger smirked and stood back, spreading his arms wide and relaxing his shoulders. From his back stretched two mangled white wings; broken, torn, and burning like embers in a slow fire. Sam’s mouth fell open in a disturbed gasp before the demon had even parted his lips. History books had warned him of the fallen angel with burning wings. The name had been whispered throughout the castle like some sort of curse. Even his father had told him dreadful stories about the fallen angel, the one who belonged in neither Heaven nor Hell. Sam lost his breath, and he sat in awe and complete fear of the stranger in front of him.

     “I am Lucifer, and I am here to help you.”


	14. Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam turns to Lucifer for a new path of training. Three years has gone by since Castiel made the decision to remain "friends" and Dean still struggles with his feelings.

     When Dean Winchester returned home from his short but enjoyable excursion to the beach, he threw his brother’s door open and began to blabber about sunshine and earthly mating traditions. It wasn’t until after he got to the part about Balthazar shoving cake into Gabriel’s face that he realized Sam’s living quarters were empty. The King sized bed, unlike like his own, was made neatly and untouched. Not a wrinkle in the blankets to be found. A single book lay open across the desk, the pages decorated with letters and numbers: dates and times for certain activities A schedule, most likely coordinated by King Winchester himself. Dean only skimmed through the list, searching for the most recent time. Half past nine in the morning. Sam would have been, or should have been, sleeping.

     The demon stood in the middle of the bedroom and looked around for any clues that could have hinted at his brother’s whereabouts. Upon further inspection, he found that the windows were all closed and locked, the bathtub was dry, and there wasn’t an item out of place. The bookshelves were organized alphabetically. Other than a guide book “How To Choose Your Hellhound” stuffed inside the bedside table, everything had a place on a shelf, and it was all untouched, neat, and tidy.

     Confused, Dean crossed his arms. It was unlike Sam to sneak off in the hours of the night, but not unheard of. Pushing concern for his brother aside, he tried to convince himself that sneaking off was normal for a demon. Hell, he’d snuck off the grounds hundreds of times, and one of those times was to find himself a cozy little human bed to sleep under. Maybe Sam had finally done the same.

     There was still a smidgen of doubt in Dean’s head about his brother’s safety. The last time Sam had wandered off, he’d gotten smuggled into the human world via a nightmare-dealing demon. Who knew what kind of trouble the young Winchester was able to get himself into again?

     Dean wandered back to his own quarters, greeting Fido with a rough pat to its head and then falling backwards onto one of the couches. The smell of leather and hellhound saliva was fierce, clouding his other senses. The devilish beast forced its head into his lap, grunting and snorting and wetting his jeans with mucus. He stroked his needy pet with lazy fingers that hung off the arm of the couch.

     Sleep had almost found its way to the demon before the double wide doors opened into the hallway, and Savoy stepped into the threshold. The hellhound’s attention was attracted by the head servant, and he immediately stopped snorting to growl cautiously at the elderly man. Dean silenced it with a flick of his hand.

     “What’s up?” He didn’t bother to rise from his comfortable place on the sofa. Savoy cleared his throat and glanced down at the hound, who was temporarily calmed by its master’s command. He swallowed before opening his mouth to speak.

     “Your presence is requested in the parlor, sire. Immediately.”

     The demon rolled its eyes and waved him away. It was early and he was tired. Anyone requesting his presence at this hour was asking for an unpleasant attitude.

     “Later.” Dean shrugged.

     “I’m afraid I must insist.” The wrinkles on Savoy’s fearless expression formed deep, cold crevices in his face.

     “I know it isn’t my old man.” Dean declared, a glint of curiosity and daredevil in his eyes. “Dad would have been up here himself if he wanted a word. So _who,_ might I ask, is demanding my presence?” he snapped. His beat up tennis shoes made a muted thud as he jumped to his feet. The hellhound snarled furiously beside him, no doubt sensing the irritation from its master.

     Savoy’s dark eyes remained fixed on the prince, his lips pressed into a firm, straight line. Annoyed with the servant’s lack of response, Dean grunted while storming past him and out of the room. The black doors vanished behind him in a flash, and he stomped, almost childlike, down the corridor.

     The parlor was on the second floor of the royal castle; one of the more quaint rooms that was mostly unused. Occasionally, one could hear a melody drifting from the grand ebony piano in there, though no one ever claimed to play it. There were a few round tables in there with tea sets and eloquent blown glass statues. In other words, the parlor was a quiet place to have tea and stare at the useless trinkets that the Winchesters had acquired over the years. Dean could have snapped himself there in a second, but his stubbornness demanded a righteous entry.

     He placed both hands on the doors in front of him and flung them open.

     The one demanding his presence was none other than Sam Winchester himself.

     Dean let out a laugh and wandered over to his brother, who had his back turned to him. It was very unusual to be summoned by his little brother, and he couldn’t help but wonder what this was all about.

     "What's with the formalities, Sammy?" He placed a hand on the boy's shoulder and spun him around.

     Sam's eyes were empty; their usual hazel colors replaced with eyes of coal. The black looked strange. The greens and blues and orange tints of his irises usually made him look less demon and more human. Dean quickly gasped and pursed his lips.

     "Dude-"

     "Dean," Sam cut him off, grabbing the elder's forearm with a hand. "Listen to me." There was urgency to his tone that Dean didn’t understand. He had never seen his brother so disturbed. “There is a war coming. There’s a rebellion of demons who are trying to steal the throne and they want us dead.”

     “What the hell are you talking about?” Dean guffawed, unsure if this was an elaborate prank or if his brother was really serious. “Sam, no one is trying to steal the throne. Our great great great grandfather was the King of the Netherworld. The Winchesters have ruled for billions of years.” The blond leaned against a nearby table. “Where did you get this crazy idea?”

     “I knew you wouldn’t believe me,” Sam grumbled. He crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at the ground. The sour expression was just as foreign as the demon eyes.

     “No, buddy, it’s just that… well, you sound kind of crazy right now,” Dean smiled hesitantly. “Are you feeling okay?” He tried to reach out and put the back of his hand on Sam’s forehead, but the young prince yanked away and snarled at him. His brother stepped back, surprised by his hostile behavior.

     “You’re never even here, so how would you know?” Sam suddenly shouted, his hands clenching into angry fists. “You don’t even care about the throne!" Dean didn't know how to respond to Sam's accusations. His mouth hung open with surprise. "You don't care what happens, as long as you can run back to the human world."

     "Hey!" Dean snapped, interrupting his brother's rant by grabbing his arm in a firm grasp. The younger Winchester refused to look at him, pointing his unnaturally dark eyes in the opposite direction. "Sammy, look at me," Dean begged. "What's wrong with you? Why are you acting like this? Why are your eyes black?"

      With a shout of frustration, Sam ripped himself away from his brother's grip and stumbled away from him. He pushed his sleeve up to his elbow, revealing a five-inch long slice in his flesh. The wound was stitched but continued to leak old blood and pus. Lucifer's herb wrap had fallen off and left the wound vulnerable. Dean grimaced and reached out to examine the wound.

      "What the hell-"

      "Meg," Sam spat with disgust. He pulled his arm away before Dean could get a good look at it. "I gave her my blood so you didn't have to kill another human."

     Guilt took a satisfying bite out of Dean's stomach.

     "H-how did you know about that?" he whispered. He had almost forgotten about the innocent doctor who had caught him trying to steal blood from the hospital. He had murdered him accidentally, with a mere wave of his hand. But there were bigger things to worry about now. "You gave her _your_ blood?"

     "What else was I supposed to do?" Sam cried. His anger was fading to desperation, and there were tears forming in the corners of his eyes. "She wouldn't leave you alone! She threatened to hurt Cas! I had to do something!"

     "That had nothing to do with you!" The elder Winchester reached up to rub his horns with frustration. He lowered his voice before he alerted the entire castle of the situation. In a hoarse whisper he continued, "Do you have any idea what a piece of shit like her could do with your blood? You're a prince, Sam! Your blood is worth thousands!"

      Sam broke into a sob. To Dean's relief, his eyes flickered back to their usual hazel color.

     "I-I was the one who used her to get to the human world," he sniffled. "It was my responsibility."

     "You're just a kid," Dean growled. "You should have let me handle it-"

     "Why, so you could kill another innocent person?" Sam cried.

     "That was an _accident_!" he shouted. "I didn't want to kill anyone! That's why I snuck into the goddamn hospital in the first place! He just surprised me and... and I didn't know I could kill him!"

     There was a stunned silence from Sam, and Dean had to fight the urge to release tears of his own.

     Finally, Sam reached out and put his arms around his brother, squeezing him tightly and hiding his face in the fabric of his t-shirt. Dean returned the hug, gently holding him and resting his chin on the top of his tousled dark hair.

     "It's gonna be okay, Sammy," he soothed. He ignored the snot stain forming on his shoulder. "It's gonna be fine. Do you know what she did with the blood?"

     The young prince stepped back and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. His intimidating demon demeanor had disappeared.

     "She drank it," he murmured. Dean hated the thought of that wench sucking blood from his little brother's arm.

     "Well, that's good, believe it or not." He propped himself up onto a glass table nearby. "At least that means she didn't _sell_ it to anyone with half a brain. There are a lot more dangerous things that could be done with your blood than getting high from it."

     "I didn't think it was that big of a deal. It's just a little blood," Sam mumbled. Dean scoffed and shook his head.

     "But you're a prince, Sam. You've got strong magic pumping through those veins." The blond sighed heavily and hopped back down from the table. "Remember the time I drank an entire bottle of demon blood?"

     The smaller brother nodded and sank down onto the piano bench.

     "You got really sick and the mage had to take care of you for a week," he remembered.

     "Yeah, but what else?" he pressed on. Sam scrunched up his face in deep thought.

     Dean remembered it all too well. He had been partying with Benny on the night of his thirteenth birthday when the vampire pulled out a full bottle of top notch demon blood. Demon blood was a nice pick-me-up drug, though not nearly as satisfying or addicting as human blood. (Much easier to get your hands on, too). Thinking he could handle the high, Dean downed the bottle and spent the next several days emptying his stomach into the toilet. Naturally, his father had been furious.

     The blood had been laced with magic from the owner and after consuming such a hearty amount of it, Dean had some awful side effects. Every time he sneezed, his hair turned a different color. His hiccups were so severe that he broke his rib cage in three places, and he suffered severe hallucinations. Not to mention coming off of the high made him angry and violent. He broke Savoy's arm and frightened several of the maids. The dose of magic alone was enough to make him dangerous to others.

     The worst part was that for the entire week, he wasn't allowed to visit Cas.

     "I remember..." Sam scratched his head and pursed his lips into a thoughtful frown. "But that means Meg might get sick from drinking my blood, doesn't it?" His older brother nodded.

     "That's right. But a dose of magic that strong could make her unstoppable, if it didn't kill the bitch."

     The two princes stared at each other for a long moment until Sam looked away.

     "I'm sure it will be okay," Dean tilted his head up and regained his confidence. He knew he had to stay strong. "Keep an eye on that cut though, that looks nasty. And don't think I forgot about your eyes. What is that, some kind of anger management problem?"

     "I don't know... I was going to go see a mage about it," Sam explained softly. "I just had to tell you about... about the rebels."

     Dean raised his brow. He had forgotten about that part.

     "Meg is working with the rebels," he went on. "I know she is. Think about it, Dean. She asked you to get her human blood because she can't go to the human world."

     "So?" Dean shrugged. "She's a drug addict, I'm not surprised. A lot of monsters are banned from the human world."

     "Would you shut up and just listen to me for once?" The young prince demanded, silencing his brother's arguing immediately. "I _know_ there is a rebellion and I _know_ that Meg is part of it. If we're not careful, they could take us by surprise. We've got to do something. We've got to tell Dad. We've got to increase security and we've got to be prepared."

     Defeated, Dean shook his head and got up. He began to pace the room, watching the pattern of the wood beneath his shoes as he moved.

     "Fine, fine," he sighed. "If it helps you sleep at night, I'll talk to Dad and get some extra guards around the castle."

     "Do you believe me?" Sam looked hopeful. His brother paused mid step and mumbled a "yes", but it was very quiet and not very convincing.

     "Now go see the mage," he ordered. "I don't need my little brother turning into a full fledged demon on me every time he gets pissed off."

      Sam let out a heavy sigh and left quickly, leaving Dean alone in the eerie parlor.

 

 

     "Did he listen?" Lucifer asked with a heightened brow. He stretched himself out along the cabana sofa. His burnt wings rested on either side of him; one hanging off the edge of the couch and the other curled uncomfortably behind his shoulder. The heat of never ending fire didn't seem to bother him anymore, and although the smell of burning feathers was never pleasant, he was used to it by now. The fallen angel had heard Sam Winchester enter the cottage before he bothered to look up.

     "Sort of," Sam murmured. "I don't think he believed me about the rebellion."

     "It's to be expected," Lucifer soothed. "Your brother will come to his senses in time, as will your father." He watched Sam linger in the doorway. The boy looked nervous and uneasy in the fallen angel's home. "Come, come. Have a seat," he offered, sitting up and making room on the couch for the boy to sit.

     Sam made his way over and sat on the farthest cushion. He nursed his arm against his chest, though it was now wrapped nicely in what looked like seaweed and mixed herbs. It had been tricky lying to the mage about his injury. The last thing he needed was his father finding out about his little donation. Lucifer's first herb wrap had fallen off and he couldn't risk traveling to the old cottage in the woods without some kind of protection on his open wound. Seeing a mage at the castle was his only option.

          "What about my eyes? They haven't turned black since I was a child." Sam whined. "What's wrong with me?"

     "Nothing is wrong with you, dear child. In fact, I would say everything's going right." Lucifer tilted his head and smiled in a spooky way. "You are half-blooded, correct?" He paused while Sam nodded. "Until now, you have succumbed to your mother's traits.  You are growing older, my boy. You will experience changes... becoming more demonic with age. Just a little anger and fear and you are already flashing demon eyes... I daresay you might become more powerful than your brother."

     Sam gawked.

     "Now, let's talk about those powers," Lucifer murmured. "You must strengthen your senses if you are to face the rebellion."

     "But I'm not even thirteen," Sam complained. "I can't even reap souls yet. How am I supposed to-"

     "Shhh," the winged man quieted him. "Do not focus on what you cannot do. Focus on what you _can."_

     The prince frowned and stared at his shoes.

     "I guess I'm pretty good at transfiguration," he admitted. Lucifer nodded encouragingly, waiting for him to go on. "I... I've been studying psychokinesis."

     "Psychokinesis is a very valuable skill to have. Your enemies will not expect it, and that gives you an advantage."

     "B-but I can't do it very well yet," Sam stammered anxiously. "I've only been able to move a few small things."

     "That's okay," Lucifer said calmly. "Have you ever tried using it on someone?" When Sam shook his head with terrified eyes, he let out a quiet laugh. "Don't worry, my little friend. I can teach you many skills. As long as you are willing to visit me and dedicate your time to me, I will make you into the finest warrior this realm has ever seen."

     Sam felt a comforting hand on his back. It was an offer he would not refuse.

 

 

_THREE YEARS LATER_

 

 

 "I don't know why you think I should have to learn this. It's not like the castle has a parking garage."

     Sunlight blazed radiantly overhead. The quiet engine of the BMW coupe hummed idly in the driveway of 248 Cedar Glen Lane. In the driver seat, eighteen year old Dean Winchester sits with both hands clenched tightly around the steering wheel. Beside him, Castiel Novak sits nervously with both hands in his lap. Perhaps teaching a demon how to drive is not the best idea, but Castiel is determined to pass his automotive knowledge onto his friend.

     _Friend_ is a loose term.

     Their relationship seemed to change not long after Gabriel and Balthazar's wedding in Virginia. Feeling courageous after seeing her brother marry his husband, Anna came out to Michael at dinner one evening. The eldest Novak broke several dishes and threatened to kick her out of the house. Castiel was horrified, and it took over an hour for Dean to calm him down in the bathroom upstairs. He begged the demon to remain _just friends_ in fear that Michael would find out.

     Anna was allowed to stay under a set of very strict conditions. Charlie was no longer allowed in the house when he was not home. There were no sleepovers allowed. Anna's door was to be kept open whenever she had company, and she was subjected to a tracking device being installed on her cell phone.

     Anna insisted that she was leaving as soon as she was accepted into the prestigious art academy she had been working towards for years. _"Once I'm accepted there, I'll move to Seattle with Charlie and Michael will never have to deal with me again,"_ she told Cas one afternoon. _"Maybe one day he'll realize that being judgmental is going to cost him his family."_

That wasn't the worst part.

     After Anna's coming out, Castiel was suddenly Michael's favorite child. The avus blue BMW was a gift for his sixteenth birthday. Cas didn't pay a dime out of his pocket for the luxurious new sports car and it made him feel guilty.

     _"You're the only one in this family that deserves it, Castiel,"_ Michael had said. Those words made him sick to his stomach. If anyone didn't deserve a brand new car, it was the boy who had made out with a demon in an alternate world filled with monsters.

     Yet here he sat, on a sunny day in May, riding shotgun while his demon friend gave driving a try. He would have been lying if he'd said he wasn't scared, but he trusted the teenage monster behind the wheel.

     Dean put his foot on the gas and revved the engine in a mighty roar. He jumped at the sudden noise, looking to his passenger with startled eyes.

     "You forgot to take it out of park," Castiel explained calmly, pushing his glasses up on his nose. "Put the car in reverse and slowly- _slowly-_ back out of the driveway."

     The demon swallowed the lump in his throat and hesitantly reached for the stick on the console.

     "This one?" he asked nervously, placing his pale hand on top of the shifter and curling his dark nails against the leather. Cas nodded and set his hand on top of Dean's, squeezing it reassuringly.

     "We're going to put it in reverse." The car clicked into gear with another quiet hum of the engine. "Now slowly let your foot off the brake."

     "But we'll roll!" Dean panicked, and he pressed his foot firmly into the brake pedal.

     "Dean, it's okay!" Castiel comforted him as best as he could, squeezing his hand again. "You're doing fine."

     "No, I'm not! I don't want to break your car!" The demon pushed the shifter back into park and pulled out the key, silencing the car. "I can't do this, Cas."

     The brunette's lips turned upwards into a smile and he shrugged.

     "That's okay. You don't have to do anything you don't want to." He climbed out of the car and closed the door behind him, temporarily leaving his friend inside the car. Secretly, he had hoped Dean would learn to drive so he could be driven around for once. Dean could always just pop to wherever he wanted to go, but Castiel found driving to be somewhat of a hassle. Despite how nice the car was, he simply didn't enjoy driving (and Michael's guilt tripping wasn't helpful either).

     Dean got out a moment later, stretching his long arms above his head and shaking the nerves from his arms. A lot had changed about the demon in three years time. He had grown taller and more muscular. His ram horns had begun their second loop on either side of his head, and they were dark and shiny like obsidian. His hair had grown darker over time, not quite brown, but a very dark, ashy blonde. Poking out above the collar of his shirt was the edge of a strange tattoo he had recently obtained on his breast plate. The deep black ink stood out against the porcelain color of his skin. The symbol was similar to a pentagram, though Dean assured him that it was actually an anti-possession tattoo.

     _"I know it sounds funny, doesn't it? A demon getting an anti-possession sigil? It's actually really common. Monster or not, you can still be possessed, you know."_

Castiel wouldn't admit it, but he thought the tattoo was very attractive.

     "Are you coming over tonight?" Dean asked curiously, clearly changing the subject from his failed attempt at driving.

     Cas shrugged, taking the keys and locking up the car. He looked apathetically at the door.

     "Maybe."

     "Maybe?" Dean frowned.

     Castiel wasn't fond of visiting the monster world. The food was strange and often left him sick. Dean had introduced him to some of his _friends_ (Benny had been nice, but he couldn't get over the fact he was talking to a real vampire). He liked visiting Sam, but he didn't see much of the young prince anymore. Not to mention John Winchester liked to loom over them like a hawk, making him nervous and uncomfortable most of the time.

     "I have a lot of studying to do," he said softly. Dean huffed and turned around, smacking his tail against the car.

     "You always have studying to do," he sighed.

     Feeling guilty now, Castiel crossed his arms and moved past the demon towards the front door.

    "Don't sulk," he muttered. "You had to study for your WORMS assessment."

     Castiel was in his senior year of high school. He only had a few weeks of classes until he would graduate and spread his wings into the world of student loans and college textbooks. Dean, however, had graduated from WORMS on a chilly day in March. Castiel had been invited, of course.

     The assessment was interesting to watch. For one thing, the graduation had taken place in a town called Aramore.

     Castiel was fascinated to discover that the monster world _had_ town names, though he supposed it made sense, considering it was a _world_ after all, and monsters seemed to be fairly civilized beings.

     Aramore was a small town several miles South the royal castle. The castle happened to be located in the town of Woodhaerst, and to the north of Woodhaerst was the crowded city of Draycott. Near Aramore was a trade village called Jarren's Outpost, where "monsterpreneurs" gathered to exchange goods and ideas to other travelers. Finally, to the East of Aramore was another small village known as Mirstone. All of the other towns and cities were on the other side of the swamp lands, and not worth traveling to. Dean told Castiel about all of these places, although Castiel only got to experience Woodhaerst and Aramore for himself.

     The visit to Aramore had been a pleasant experience. It was much less dreary than the solemn stone walls of the castle and the eerie woodlands that surrounded it. The streets of Aramore were lined with small cottages, vendors, booths, and cafes. Horses were trotting along freely and nibbling at grass that pushed through the brick paths. Castiel could only describe it as _peaceful,_ which was especially odd for a town full of monsters.

     While Castiel tried to avoid staring at some of the strange creatures he saw there, the strange creatures had not been so polite. He was the target of many eyes and quiet whispers. Still, no one tried to kill him or eat him for lunch, so he tried to remain on a good note with Aramore.

     The WORMS assessment took place upon a circular wooden stage in the middle of a neatly trimmed field. There were chairs surrounding the stage for the audience; both students and guests. Castiel sat uncomfortably between Sam and Dean's vampire friend Benny.

     One by one, each teenage monster would step onto the stage and be given a short series of spells to perform and tasks to complete. If they passed, they were presented with a diploma while the audience applauded, and then it was onto the next student.

     The only one who didn't pass was a small, male shapeshifter (Cas did not catch his name) who failed at a transfiguration spell.

     Dean passed with flying colors, naturally. He waved his diploma above his head and gave Cas and his family a cheeky smile.

     That had been three months ago. Now Dean was now magic certified and Castiel was still in high school.

     School had become easier as time dragged on. After Castiel stood up to Uriel in his freshman year, he hadn't been bullied nearly as much (and Dean wouldn't shut up about how he was right). In fact, a few ninth graders had stepped forward and _thanked_ Castiel for his bravery. After seeing one victim react, others found courage to defend themselves as well. He became somewhat of a hero at Pontiac High School.

     Now all he worried about was keeping his straight A's, balancing his part time job at Books-A-Ton, studying for his final exams, and getting as many scholarships as he could.

     "But I always had time for you," Dean chimed in, following Cas inside and heading straight for his bedroom. "We never hang out anymore."

     "We were just hanging out," Castiel pointed out. With his back to the demon, he rolled his eyes. "You're very clingy, you know."

     This was no surprise to Dean. He shrugged and pushed past his friend, collapsing onto the bed.

     "Now that I'm not in class, I've got way more free time. Alistair hardly ever sends me on deals anymore. What else am I supposed to do except hang out down here and pester you?" There was a devious grin on his face. He stretched out on his back, taking up the entirety of the bed.

     "Maybe you should start causing trouble, like normal demons." It was easy to tell from Castiel's playful expression that he was joking. "You could start learning how to rule a kingdom," he added wishingly, setting his car keys onto the desk and slumping down into the computer chair. "There's a wild idea."

     The demon snorted loudly, as if the mere idea was preposterous.

     "I don't want to rule the nether regions," he argued. "I'd rather run off and be a traveling merchant or a blacksmith. That sounds much more exciting than sitting on a big throne all day, signing ordinances and punishing idiots."

     Castiel faced his desk and opened up a very large textbook, interrupting Dean's storytelling with a loud thud.

     "Sorry," he said, glancing over his shoulder. "But I've really got to study for this exam next week."

     The demon prince got up, swung his feet over the bed, and groaned loudly and irritably.

     "Say no more," he moaned dramatically. "I'll leave you to your dumb books."

     "Thanks, Dean."

     Castiel returned his gaze to the textbook in front of him. After a second of uncomfortable silence, in which Dean was probably hoping Castiel would change his mind on the matter, there was a quiet snap and the young man with black eyes had vanished.

 

 

      After his plans of spending the evening with Cas were turned down, Dean decided to instead visit his good pal Benny. The vampire lived on a small farm on the edge of the Great Swamp, which was just as far as Dean was willing to travel. Within seconds, the prince had gone from Castiel's cluttered bedroom to the field of bullcocks outside Benny's one room cottage. It was peaceful here; surrounded by a dense pine forest and sporadic grassy fields of the strange creatures that Benny raised. Dean beelined past the muscular bodies and sharp talons until he was at the door.

     "Come on in, brother," the vampire's voice called out through the open window. He always seemed to expect Dean before he arrived.

     The demon entered to find his friend lingering beside the hot stove in a raggedy old apron. He was carefully stirring something mysteriously aromatic on the stove top. There was a warm, succulent smell rising from the oven as well.

     "How'd you know it was me?" Dean asked with a snicker, making himself comfortable in a torn old armchair in the corner.

     "Are you kidding?" Benny rolled his head over his shoulder and gave him a serious look. "Royal blood like yours? I could smell you coming from miles away." The two laughed jovially. Dean kicked off his shoes and brought his feet up onto the arm of the chair, his body curling into a comfortable "U" shape. He wiggled his bare toes; tiny hooked toenails clicking softly against the fabric. "You're just in time for dinner," the vampire announced, spinning around with the bubbling pot in his hand. "Bullcock stew and fresh bread, baked by yours truly."

     "I never took you for the baking type," Dean mused. Benny laughed, but did not have a retort to Dean's playful banter. He poured a hearty amount of stew into a cracked bowl and handed it off.

     "Tea?" he asked.

     "Not today," Dean replied, slurping up a mouthful of steaming stew without so much as a wince. The temperature didn't bother him so much, but if it was too hot, he couldn't fully enjoy the flavor. "You always make the best grub" he commented. "No one can compare to your bullcock stew."

     "You flatter me, brother." Benny carried his own supper to the seating area, dropping a slice of bread into Dean's waiting hand. "It's really the bullcocks you should thank. They're the ones who deliver the best quality meat. You can't get that kind of taste from the vendors in town, no sir."

     Dean nodded his head in agreement, but his mouth was too full to speak.

     "I haven't seen your mate around lately," the vampire spoke through a small bite of bread. The prince scrunched his brow and chewed harder and faster. Castiel did not usually come up in their casual conversations. After a loud swallow, Dean cleared his throat and answered:

     "Well, he's not really my mate anymore."

     Benny glanced up in surprise. His hand hovered over his bowl of stew, fingers curled and ready to pick up a chunk of meat.

     "Oh?"

     Dean sighed and began to explain. He told Benny about how nervous Castiel had been when they kissed, and how the common mating ritual had overwhelmed and frightened him. He told him about the failed attempts at later sexual endeavors, and the lack of appreciation for his mating gifts (not including the lionmouse, who Castiel eventually named Little Roar and took quite a fondness to).

     "He didn't like the shrunken head?" Benny asked incredulously.

     "He kicked it straight to the garbage," Dean sighed sadly.

     He went on to explain about the human mating ritual; how Gabriel and Balthazar had been married on the beach and how Castiel did _not_ want to be married. Finally, he explained how homosexuality was frowned upon and how Michael nearly threw his sister out of the house for having a girlfriend.

     "Castiel was too afraid to come out to his brother, so we broke up," Dean concluded. He hadn't realized that he had been absentmindedly stirring the remnants of bullcock stew with his finger.

      "I'm sorry," Benny had finished his supper by now and placed his empty dish on the table between them. He now focused on his cup of lukewarm herbal tea. "It sounds like you two went through a lot together."

     "We're still friends," Dean shrugged. "It's just not the same. He never wants to come here and whenever I visit, he's got his face buried in a goddamn text book."

     "Have you told him how you feel?"

     "Every day."

     The vampire stood and walked past Dean to put his dishes in the sink. Along the way, he brushed his cool hand against Dean's shoulder.

     "It sounds like you need a distraction," he suggested. Dean's tail twitched at the offering and he quickly swung his legs around and sat up. Benny's ideas for a _distraction_ usually involved troublesome or dangerous behavior. He quickly recalled the time he had broken his arm while bullcock tipping.

     "What are you thinking?" Dean asked warily. Benny gathered Dean's bowl and set it in the sink with the others.

     "I haven't been to Draycott in a while."

     Draycott was the largest development of monsters on the West side of the Great Swamp. There were buildings that stretched dozens of stories into the sky. It was a city of huge houses, high-end shops, and expensive cuisine. Unfortunately it was hundreds of miles away, but being a demon, instant teleportation was an option.

     Dean thought about Draycott. It was a big place with endless things to do. It was also somewhere that he had always wanted to show Cas, though it was a mighty dangerous place for a human to be. The monsters of Draycott were ruthless and selfish. Not to mention the highest population of Draycott was wyverns, scaled dragon-like creatures that walked on two legs and had an appetite for soft flesh.

      It wasn't as dangerous to monsters like Benny and Dean, but Castiel wouldn't have lasted five minutes on his own.

     Pushing thoughts of Cas from his mind, the demon slipped his shoes on once again.

     "Sure," he decided with a shrug. "Nothing better to do."

    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I broke my ankle last week trying to do a 5k mud run. I just had surgery yesterday to have 8 screws and a big metal plate inserted into my bones. *shivers* I've been fighting a lot of pain and will be bed-ridden for at least a good 3 weeks, if not longer. Doc says it will be about 3 months before I'm back to normal. *sighs* Fortunately for you guys, that means I have plenty of free time to work on my fics. Chapter 15 has already been started!
> 
> Next chapter will have some thrilling Benny and Dean adventures in the big city of Draycott, as well as some insight as to how Castiel holding up.


	15. Draycott's Contemporary Museum of Unnatural Curiosities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean takes a day to explore the wonders of Draycott with his pal Benny... and Cas isn't too happy with him when he returns.

Draycott was dreary and gloomy, despite the bustling of a typical city. Dark, heavy clouds rolled across the crimson mood and brought with it a roll of ominous thunder, seemingly unnoticed by the citizens below. The air was sticky with humidity and smelled of smoke and pollution.

     Dean and Benny appeared on the lower balcony of _Los Diablos,_ a sit-down place that Dean remembered visiting as a child. He didn't particularly want to summon them to a fancy dine-in restaurant, but he was only able to teleport to places that he remembered clearly, and he didn't know Draycott well enough to appear anywhere else. Other than a pair of witches seated in the corner, they were alone. There was a crustacean of some sort on a plate between them, snapping its pincers as they dug for meat inside of its shelled body.

     Still full from Benny's home cooked meal, Dean made his way towards the railing and hopped over onto the sidewalk below. The vampire followed behind, his larger body moving slower over the obstacle.

     The options of where they could go and what they could do were seemingly endless. The city was huge- much bigger than Woodhaerst and Aramore. The streets were alive with motion, monsters of all sorts pushing past each other to get to their destination. Most of them were wyverns, their sharp tails jutting out behind them and creating a nasty trap to whoever was not watching their feet.

     The pair of friends began walking, keeping to the outskirts of the crowd. Dean kept his eyes open for anything that could be fun or exhilarating to try, but all he could see over the heads of monsters and humanoids were worn down, unreadable signs and a thick, hazy smog. He kept trying to imagine what it would be like to have Castiel at his side rather than a middle-aged vampire.

     _Cas would be scared out of his mind,_ he thought begrudgingly. The unfriendly wyverns in front of them were hissing and spitting in a language of their own, and Dean couldn’t tell if they were having an unpleasant conversation or if that was just how they spoke. There was a very hairy beast to the side of them that could only be described as some sort of a werewolf with brilliant blue fur. He was moving along in an uneven stumble, as if he was drunk or as if someone had just stepped on his massively hairy foot.

     Behind them, a pair of demon girls chattered cheerfully about a music festival in Mirstone and a handsome devil they had met there. Dean tried not to eavesdrop, but their sing-song voices seemed to amplify in the tight crowd.

     “Did you see his _horns?_ Why can’t anyone around here have horns like that?”

     “He’s probably one of those _incubus,_ ” the other whined. “You saw the way he was all over that vampire slut.”

     “How many souls do you think he’s reaped?”

     Dean was amused with their childish conversation, and by the look on Benny’s face, he had been listening as well.

     The crowd in Draycott was much less formal than his usual company in Woodhaerst. No one stopped to bow as he walked past and no one was leaning over his shoulder telling him what he should and should not be doing as heir to the throne. It was a nice change of scenery. He may have even enjoyed it more than Earth, where he constantly had to hide his true form from human eyes and restrain his magic abilities.

     Here, he was just another monster.

 

 

     Benny suggested that they visit the Contemporary Museum of Unnatural Curiosities, which was just one of the many odd landmarks to visit in Draycott.

     The building itself looked like it had been transformed out of an old factory. Other than a very large and rickety sign hanging over the doors to the museum, one would have never guessed that the building was a popular tourist attraction. In fact, they had almost walked right past it, had Dean not pointed out the antique sign overhead. They stepped out of the way and let the two gossiping demon gals pass them by. The blue beast with the limp hobbled out of sight a moment later.

     “This is it,” Benny announced. He grabbed the door handle and swung it open, allowing the smaller boy to dip underneath his arm and slip inside. “Draycott’s Contemporary Museum of Unnatural Curiosities.”

     The title was a bit grand for what was inside. The foyer was slightly barren. The front desk had a stack of pamphlets, each one complete with descriptions of the exhibits and a map of the museum. Dean snatched one as they strolled by, unfolding it into a large scroll in front of his face.

     “This place is big,” he commented. “We could spend all night in here.”

     “Let’s just skip to the good parts then,” Benny declared, stealing the map and folding it back into a neat pamphlet shape. “I heard they’ve got the skeleton of a real three headed hell hound.”

     “That’s just a nursery story,” Dean huffed. “There’s no such thing.”

     But Dean was unfortunately mistaken. The skeletal remains of the three headed hell hound “Cerberus” were showcased in one of the larger, nicer exhibits. The bones were suspended neatly in midair, hanging overhead perhaps by some sort of spell. The demon prince craned his neck to stare upwards, gawking at the mere size of the beast. It was ten times the size of his hell hound, Fido. The teeth alone were just about the length of his forearm.

     There were other curiosities, though none were quite as impressive as Cerberus. A wyvern with four wings instead of two.  A double-headed sabertooth walrus. The world’s longest naga. There were no live exhibits, so everything was preserved behind glass or suspended in midair like the Cerberus bones.

     After a while, the museum was boring and Dean was ready to move on to something new.

     “Wait, there’s one more thing we have to see,” Benny whipped out the pamphlet and searched through its folded pages. “It should be right through here.”

     Dean didn’t argue with his friend. He followed Benny down a dark, dusty exhibit hall and through a pair of double wide doors. The room beyond was empty except for a single glass case that sat off by itself. When Dean realized what was inside the case, floating in a tinted green liquid, he felt his heart drop into his stomach. A wave of nausea rushed over him, and he could not command his feet to move any closer to the exhibit.

     “W-what is it?” he whispered at last, his voice coming out with a choked breath. Benny opened up their crinkled pamphlet and began to read words off the page.

     “They called him Adam. Discovered approximately 190,000 years ago, Adam was the first human to sell its soul. The body was preserved by the demon that made the deal.”

     The specimen, although eerily pale and sickly malnourished, reminded Dean of a certain blue-eyed boy. The tousled dark hair, drifting slightly in the stagnant water, gave him chills. The creases under his eyes felt too familiar.

     If he hadn’t been so fond of humans, perhaps his reaction would have been different. Benny, for one, was looking at the exhibit like a fascinated child; his eyes scanning the human body and observing all of its strange glory.

     “That’s sick,” Dean sputtered out, turning his back to the display and glaring at the wall behind them. He frantically searched for something- anything- to keep his eyes busy. The image of the corpse was still fresh in his mind.

     “Sorry.” Benny sounded sympathetic as the realization dawned upon him. “I didn’t think about it.”

     “Yeah, whatever,” Dean hissed, his disgust coming out in the form of irritation. “Let’s get out of this shithole.”

     Benny did not argue.

     They left the museum in a bit of a hurry; Dean would not even stop at the gift vendor near the exit for a souvenir, to his friend’s quiet protest.

     The demon prince hustled out the door and back onto the crowded streets of Draycott. The fumes of his anger were evident as he shoved into the herd of monsters, elbowing his way through like everyone else. He was vaguely aware of Benny calling to him from behind, attempting to follow him through the flow of traffic.

     He could not get the disturbing image of _Adam_ out of his head.

     Dean reached up and tugged on his hair with a growl of frustration. He was a demon. He had made deals with dozens of humans, signing their souls away and sending them to Hell. He had watched his hell hound tear the souls out of innocent humans. He learned how to scare the lungs out of someone before he learned how to crawl. Yet here he was, distraught over a petrified, preserved human.

     He kept imagining Castiel in the exhibit instead.

     “Dammit!” he cursed with an immature stomp of his foot. There was a shriek of pain from in front of him and a beady eyed wyvern turned around to face him. He had thrown his foot down directly onto the creature’s tail.

     Before he could blink, Dean was on the ground and there were dozens of bodies surrounding him. The wyvern was standing on his chest with its fierce talons digging threateningly into the fabric of his shirt. It scowled and hooted in an unfamiliar language. The crowd weaved around them, ignorant of the violence unfolding below.

     “I’m sorry!” Dean yelled, fear hitching his voice in his throat. He didn’t know if the monster could understand him or not. The wyvern screeched again and bent down, snorting steam very close to the side of his face. He got the feeling it was a sort of warning. “For fuck’s sake, it was an accident!”

     After another puff of steam rolled from the wyvern’s nostrils, it released him from its grip and straightened up. He quickly realized it was a female- her reptilian body had large breasts and a rounded stomach. She whipped around and continued on her way, her slimy tail dragging on the ground behind her.

     “I’m surprised you got out of that one.” Benny’s voice came from somewhere nearby, though it took Dean a moment to spot him from his position on the ground. Someone stepped on his hand, and someone else crushed his tail with their boot. The vampire’s strong hand reached out to him, helping him to his feet; saving him from further abuse. “An average wyvern is irritable enough, but you had to go upset an expecting mother.” He pulled the demon out of the flow of traffic and they paused on the side of the road for Dean to catch his breath. “What was that all about?”

     “I stepped on her stupid tail,” Dean grunted.

     “That’s not what I’m talking about.” Benny’s eyes narrowed. “Your little temper tantrum back there.”

     Dean rubbed his sore tail between his hands. If it weren’t black, he would have thought it’d be turning blue. Refusing to answer, he leaned against a nearby light post. He was usually fearless to express his emotions, but this was different. The sight of the human exhibit had left him with an unusual heaviness in his belly. It made him aware of the rarity humans held in his world. There were some, of course, usually brought over by needy monsters like himself, but for the most part, humans were a sight to be gawked at and cooed over. Castiel had come to visit many times over the years, but never before had Dean realized just how risky it was for the innocent blue-eyed boy. It was no wonder he attracted so many curious stares and questions. Most monsters, if they didn’t want to pet him like an animal, wanted to eat him for lunch. His best friend was in serious danger every time he came to the monster world, and Dean had been completely ignorant of it.

     “Dean?” Benny tempted him out of his milling thoughts. “Are you okay?”

     This, he knew how to answer.

     “I’m fine,” he insisted with a curt nod of his head. “Let’s just go do something _fun,_ okay?”

 

 

     The setting sun shone in through the large bay window, casting bright beams of light and mirroring black shadows across the quaint little bookstore. The shop had the unmistakable scent of old books and blended spices. In the corner of the room, a slender boy stacked empty boxes on top of one another, putting them aside to be broken down later. He pushed his thick glasses up the bridge of his nose, as they continuously managed to fall down throughout the day. A stout woman with very short hair paced behind the front desk, clipboard in hand, as she wrote down various tracking numbers and titles of the new books they had received. It was a quiet evening, the kind that Castiel quite enjoyed.

     “That takes care of them all,” the woman announced with a proud release of the clipboard. It hit the desk loudly; satisfyingly. She strolled over to her employee and caught his attention by clearing her throat. “You should take off early tonight.”

     Castiel looked at his watch. It was only just after seven-thirty. Most days, he worked until nine.

     “Are you sure, Jody?” He scratched the back of his head. “I haven’t swept the floors yet, and all these books have to be shelved…” he trailed off.

     “I can sweep the floors, and the books can be shelved tomorrow.” Jody gave him one of her motherly smiles and waved her hand towards the door. “Go enjoy your Friday night. Be a normal teenage boy.” Castiel heard a hint of teasing in her voice. She knew he wasn’t a normal teenager. Clocking off early meant going home to his practice books and studying. “Just be safe, you hear me? I expect you here at three tomorrow.”

     Not having the energy to argue with his boss, Castiel stacked the last cardboard box and grabbed his backpack from behind the desk.

     “Thanks, Jody,” he called to her. She gave him a pleasant wave as he stepped outside into the chilly spring evening.

    

 

     Unsure of what to do with himself, Castiel hopped on his bicycle and pedaled home. The wind ruffled his raven tufts and cooled his skin. Sometimes the ride to work and home was the best part of his day. He always enjoyed the peace and tranquility it brought him, even if it was raining or humid. Tonight was especially calming, though he could not put his finger on the reason why.

     Life had been good to him today, Castiel decided. He woke up on time, ate a good breakfast, had a routine day at school, and work wasn’t too busy. Now he had the entire evening to spare, and part of him felt hesitant to spend it with his nose buried in a textbook.

     _Perhaps I’ll summon Dean,_ he thought to himself. He hadn’t seen the devious demon today. In fact, he hadn’t heard from him since he turned down the offer to hang out two nights before. Assuming that he must have found alternative plans, Castiel didn’t feel guilty. He had made it plenty clear that his studies come before everything. He had big plans to get into a very nice college, and tuition wasn’t cheap. It wasn’t like he really _liked_ studying, but he knew that it was important.

     Castiel set his bike against the garage door and went inside. He could hear the television playing softly in the other room. Anna was the only one home at this hour, but muffled giggling told him that she wasn’t alone. Despite Michael’s rules, Charlie Bradbury often snuck over to see Anna when the head of the household was away. When Castiel closed the door, the giggling promptly stopped and he heard the couch creaking from the living room.

     “It’s just me,” he called. A sigh of relief could be heard. Unbothered by her sister and her partner, he headed straight for the staircase. He would let them have their limited private time together. “I’m going upstairs. Carry on.”

     “Thanks, Cas.” He was halfway up the steps before the giggling resumed, following by more quiet creaking.

     The relaxed teen dropped his backpack by the door and immediately crouched down in front of the bed. He reached his arm underneath, grabbing around blindly until he found the familiar shape of a small wooden box.

     Dean wasn’t exactly reachable in the monster world, but he had taught Castiel a very simple spell to communicate when he wasn’t around. There was no real magic involved in the conjuring, only a few simple items and some privacy. He had tried it once or twice, despite being afraid that he would summon another creature to his bedroom instead.

     He opened the box and spread the contents out in front of him. Five white unscented candles. A bottle of black calligraphy ink. A lighter. A miniature soup bowl. Last but not least, a thick lock of Dean’s blonde hair.

     “ _Essence of me,”_ Dean had told him when Castiel had asked. “ _Would you rather have my toenail clippings?”_

     Castiel, after practicing in his notebook for some time, was confident in his ability to draw the correct sigils for the spell. He carefully dipped his finger in the calligraphy ink and drew slow, steady lines on the carpet. _“Don’t worry,”_ Dean said. _“That goes away when the phone call is over.”_

     When the sigil was drawn, there was an artistic pentagram on the ground with candles at the tip of each point. Had he not known any better, he would have thought it was a Satanic ritual. Then again, he had always been naive of spells and enchantments. They weren't supposed to exist, after all.

     The small bowl was placed in the center of the markings. Castiel took great care in removing a single strand of Dean’s hair and dropping it into the bowl. He opened his mouth and began a very short enchantment. The ancient language was tricky, but Castiel had very keen pronunciation.

     _"Nomino me Dean Winchester, monstri regni."_

A more complicated spell could have physically summoned him, but that was unnecessary. This summoning was, more or less, a telepathic communication. Like a radio signal, sometimes it was hard to hear the other's voice. Today, however, the connection between Castiel and Dean's mind was static free.

     (Hiya, Cas.) Dean's voice was clear as day in the back of his head. It sounded as if he had spoken directly into his ear. He closed his eyes, trying to imagine the demon's face, though he wasn't sure why. (You don't usually call. You okay?) There was undeniable concern in his tone. More than usual.

    Castiel focused his energy on a crisp, clean response. They had only spoken through such a connection a couple of times, and it was easy to let slip if he wasn't concentrating.

     (Yes. Jody let me off early.)

     (That's unusual.)

     (Very. Am I interrupting?)

     There was a pause in which Dean did not answer. Then a quick:

     (No.)

     (You sounded hesitant.)

     (Telepathic hiccup.)

     (Are you going to come down here and see me or what?) Castiel can't help but to notice how desperate he sounds for the demon’s company. (Unless you have plans.)

     (I don't.) Dean sounds more confident now. (Just waking up, actually.)

     (It's almost dark!) Cas exclaimed, the volume of his own voice surprising him. (Did you sleep all day?)

     A chortle came from Dean's mind and Castiel could easily imagine his jagged teeth opening wide in laughter.

     (Consider it a sort of demon hangover.)

     (What?) Castiel thought he may have misheard what Dean had said. A telepathic hiccup, he hoped. (You were drunk?)

     Castiel wasn’t even certain that demons could get drunk in the first place. It seemed like such a human habit. Perhaps one that Dean had brought with him back home. The thought of an intoxicated Dean Winchester was unsettling, and he felt a nervous knot forming in the very bottom of his stomach.

     (Hardly.)

     (What does _that_ mean?) He was becoming stressed. (Dean Winchester, you better get your tail down here _right now_.)

     (Okay, okay!)

     Whether the connection fizzled at a very convenient moment, or whether Dean cut off the communication himself, Castiel’s head went silent. The ink on the floor seemed to dissipate into thin air, and all that was left to do was blow out the candles and pack the supplies back into his box.

     Castiel sat on the corner of his bed, arms crossed, waiting for his horned friend to appear. After several minutes of suspenseful waiting, the demon apparated in the center of his room. If there was one word that Cas could use to describe Dean at that moment, it was _hungover._ Castiel stood quickly and stormed towards him with a wagging finger.

     “I can’t believe you. I leave you alone for _one_ day and you get yourself completely hammered.”

     “Heh… heh…” Dean scratched the back of his head. He knew there was no avoiding the subject matter, but he didn’t seem ashamed either. “What’s the matter?”

     “What’s the matter?” Castiel repeated, sounding incredulous. “What’s the _matter?_ People make bad decisions when they’re under the influence, Dean. You’re a _prince_ for crying out loud… not to mention you’re underage...  don’t you think you should be avoiding circumstances like that?”

     The demon wandered over to the bed and sunk down onto his back.

     “It’s not a big deal, Cas. Benny and I just spent the night in Draycott. It was totally chill. We weren’t even that drunk.” As he reached up to place his hands under his head, the hem of his shirt rode up his abdomen and revealed a region of bare skin. Castiel’s jaw dropped in dismay.

     “Are those _hickeys_?”

     Dean sat up rather quickly then, pulling his shirt down to cover the affectionate marks.

     “Maybe,” he shrugged, sounding more uncomfortable now. Castiel was fuming. He looked downright outraged. Dean slowly stood. “Okay, so we may have stopped by a succubus bar or two,” he admitted.

     “ _What?_ ”

     Dean couldn’t pinpoint the source of his friend’s anger. Visiting succubus bars was a popular stress relieving activity. He certainly had the currency for it. He was far over the age of thirteen, which was the legal age in the Netherlands. Besides, he was a prince; he could do whatever he wanted. Or so he thought.

     Castiel fixed him with a furious stare and then-

     _Smack._

Dean's cheek stung in the shape of Castiel's palm.

     "Damn, Cas. All those years of refusing to stand up for yourself and now you decide to take your feelings out on me?" he chortled.

     "Would you stop with your stupid jokes?" Castiel shouted. He curled his hands into fists at his sides, and Dean took note of them.

     "Are you seriously mad at me?" Dean asked incredulously. He slowly lifted a hand to his cheek, more surprised of Castiel smacking him than in actual discomfort or pain. "You're gonna bust a vein, Cas. Calm down."

     "Don't tell me to calm down, Dean Winchester!" Castiel reached over to grab his shirt and yank it up. There were several hickeys along his pants line, disappearing beneath the rim of his belt. "Look at you!"

     Dean tugged the shirt down once more, stepping back from Cas with a defensive scowl.

     "It's just a couple of hickeys!" Dean's voice raised, despite his attempts to stay calm around Cas.

     "You're covered in them!"

     "Monsters are territorial creatures!"

     "You are not someone's territory, Dean!" Castiel shouted desperately.

     "I don't see what the big deal is," Dean's voice was cold. "You don't want to be my mate, so what does it matter if I go to a bar to get laid? I don't belong to you, Castiel Novak. It's been three years. I don't owe you commitment."

      A look of dread came across Castiel's face and his shoulders sunk into themselves.

     "Go away," he mumbled.

     "What?"

     "GO AWAY!" Castiel screamed suddenly, his eyes swollen and watering with tears behind the lenses of his glasses. Dean glared at him, his own hands shaking with the anger he forced into submission.

     "You have no right to be angry with me." The demon had to hold his tongue to keep from insulting his friend out of spite. It was a skill and a challenge to control his emotions around the human. "You're the one who told me to spend more time being a _demon._ "

     Instead of arguing, Castiel picked up his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. He gripped the doorknob tightly, twisted the knob, and yanked it open, allowing it to slam loudly into the wall. By the time he made his way to the staircase landing, Dean was sticking his head out of the bedroom doorway.

     "Cas, where are you going?" he called with hesitation. Castiel did not respond. He stormed down the stairs and threw the front door open, startling Anna and Charlie from their comfortable time on the couch. "Cas!" Dean shouted desperately, chasing the boy downstairs. Castiel had already gotten out the door and was fighting to open the door of his car.

     "Do _not_ follow me, Dean!"

     Castiel climbed into the car and slammed the car door shut, the tinted windows blocking him from view. Dean stood with a strained expression on his face as the BMW tore backwards out of the driveway and disappeared down the street.

     "What the hell was that about?" Anna piped from the front porch. Tail twitching unhappily behind him, Dean shrugged his shoulders. He reached up to rub the side of his face that still stung from Castiel's hand.

     "I guess he wanted some time to himself," he mumbled. 

     _He's not the only one._

    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. I've been working on this chapter for weeks and I think it's finally time to put it up. As you guys know, I've been recovering from my ankle surgery that happened in mid-July. It's a hard road, and it only just got harder... Just two weeks ago, I lost my dad in an automobile accident. Maybe the next chapter will be up soon. Maybe not. 
> 
> Let me know what you guys think of this chapter. Predictions for the future, ect. Fan art. I love to see it. Thanks for all of your support.


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